Unexpected Complications
by Umei no Mai
Summary: Dracule 'Fox' Lisska, Angel of Death and the King's Assassin, would have quite happily lived out her life without ever finding out why dozens of ships' crews vanished every year within the Florian Triangle. Unfortunately it was not to be, but that didn't mean she wouldn't make the most of things. Rated M for explicit scenes. Sequel to Unintended Consequences.
1. Lost

This is a sort-of sequel to Unintended Consequences, which I have been working on ever since I finished UC and has turned into a sprawling monster of a story despite my being barely a third of the way into it. However I _do_ have most of my first arc written, so I'm publishing so my readers can see what I've been up to. I do suggest reading Unintended Consequences first though, as the story will make little sense otherwise.

This is all beta'd by the intrepid InsaneScriptist, without whom I would never have gotten as far as I have!

* * *

 **Lost**

Dozens of ships' crews vanished every year within the Florian Triangle and had been doing so for as long as anyone could remember. Dracule 'Fox' Lisska, Angel of Death and the King's Assassin, would have quite happily lived out her life without ever finding out why. However it was not to be: panting, she flicked ichor from her Kairoseki blade as behind her the giant tiger that was her animated sea chest growled threateningly at the mountain-sized monsters looming over her small vessel. In her mind both her husbands swore as they rushed through the duties holding them elsewhere so they could join her in fending off this new threat, one which the whole world had been ignorant of until now and was all the more disturbing for its uncertainty.

Fox had sailed through the Triangle hundreds of times and never seen these things before, but she suspected they were why entire crews vanished on a depressingly regular basis; ships would drift around without a crew, or even the smallest sign of what had happened to the crew. They had come across her suddenly a little while earlier, appearing literally out of nowhere in a way that was profoundly disturbing to someone as brilliant with Kenbunshoku Haki as Fox was. She had retaliated of course and had managed to wound one of the creatures, but even with a Supreme-Grade sword, Busoshoku Haki and the so-called Power of Destruction she had barely made a dent in the being. It was… frustrating.

There was a deep, slow moaning sigh like a faint breeze tugging at a slack sail and another of the creatures bent down towards her. Fox's eyes narrowed and she resheathed her sword, one braid snaking out to anchor herself against her living sea chest as she shifted into an iaido stance. Whatever these things were they were tough, but nothing alive can survive without a head and whatever else they were, they were living. Anything that lives can be killed. She drew on her Devil Fruit Ability as the massive entity loomed ever closer, a faint shadow like a pale void wrapping around her hands and sword.

As she drew her blade and lunged the creature breathed out with a wail and suddenly Fox was falling backwards _through_ the deck of her little ship, sword in one hand and her sea chest dragged along by her hair, even as the panicked shouts of her husbands rang in her mind and her children's distress shook her heart before being abruptly cut off.

Blackness, pressure and utter isolation gripped her and she knew no more.

* * *

The island of Baterilla in South Blue was a place of peace, beauty and warmth. Winter did not touch it save in the most subtle of ways, Sunlight caressed it without fail every day and those who dwelt there lived frugal but contented lives far from political unrest or the whims of the ruling class. It did not even have its own government beyond an elected mayor, falling under the ruling of the Briss Kingdom. Said kingdom's government generally did not bother with such a small, peaceful place so lacking in valuable resources other than to collect taxes. This island was the home of Portgas D. Rouge, who was waiting patiently for her lover's return from the Grand Line even as she scoured the newspapers for tales of his most recent adventures. She knew he was dying, knew this was his last voyage and from her reading in the past few years she was certain it had proved to be everything Roger had hoped for. He was the Pirate King and soon he would be coming back to her.

Rouge couldn't really understand why the World Government got so worked up about Roger. True he was monstrously strong and had a dreadful temper, but he was at heart a cheerful innocent who loved his freedom more than anything else in the whole world. Even her, but Rouge didn't mind that; she was a D too and she knew all about the importance of dreams.

She'd been a rather odd child: her father had worried about her aimlessness, saying it wasn't right for a Portgas to be so lacking in drive. Rouge hadn't minded his nagging, saying she would find it when she found the right dream for her. So she had drifted through schooling, kept house for her father and started politely turning down prospective suitors when a pirate ship dropped anchor in the bay and the crew rolled into the bars up and down the waterfront while the first mate bought supplies and oversaw them being loaded on board. Rouge had gone down to watch and in the instant she set eyes on the captain she had known that _this_ was the man for her: her dream, her ambition was to become this man's lover and bear him a child.

Rouge didn't care that she was barely eighteen and twenty years Gol D. Roger's junior; she went straight for the kill and her chosen target didn't put up much of a fight. Instead he charmed her, told her magnificent stories of the Grand Line and was utterly delighted by her comments and questions. When he finally left he promised to return, which he actually did much to her father's surprise. Not just the once either: he came back again and again, though there were often years between visits.

But the last time he'd come to see her, just six months after her father's death, he'd confessed that he'd come down with an illness that was killing him and asked if she would mind him using up his final years to truly conquer the Grand Line. Rouge had agreed on the condition that once he had succeeded he come back to her and spend what time remained afterwards at her side. So Roger had left and for the past three years Rouge had been following his exploits through the newspapers, though she read the reports with a healthy dose of scepticism. She'd started noticing the bias in the years after first meeting her lover and since then become unavoidably cynical about the doings of the Gorosei and Marines.

As she folded the papers and put them away the calm of the early morning was disturbed by an earth-shaking crunch that made the windows of her home rattle in their frames and set all the birds shrieking. Curious, Rouge stepped outside and headed towards the disturbance, which was marked by a rising column of dust and sand. It seemed something had just crashed into the shore.

* * *

Rouge frowned down at the girl laying on the bed in one of her many spare rooms. She hadn't been expecting to find a person in the wide, four-foot-deep crater situated under the cloud of dust, let alone a still living one with a sheathed sword gripped in one hand and a massive sea chest embedded in the ground next to her. The hair was also unusual: what kind of parents let their daughter grow their hair until it was three times her height? Or perhaps it was culturally expected for young women to have such long hair where she was from; Roger had certainly told her tales of stranger things on the Grand Line.

However Rouge's main concern was that despite not being seriously injured, the girl had only woken three times in the past four days and each time had done nothing but weep, scream and cry out for people she clearly feared to be dead. Rouge had managed to get the girl to drink, but food just made her vomit and the woman feared the startlingly tall child who treated her sword like a favourite soft toy would waste away from grief and lack of food.

"Who are you?"

Rouge blinked, looking down at red-ringed eyes as golden as those of an osprey staring at her from a thin, angular face with pale skin stretched over prominent cheekbones and a very sharp, straight nose. Her guest looked young for all she was over six feet tall and well past puberty; the Baterilla native had decided she probably wasn't any older than fourteen considering the smoothness of her skin and the slight rawness of her features. An early bloomer most likely.

"My name is Portgas D. Rouge," the strawberry blonde told the girl. "You are in my home on Baterilla."

Angular blonde eyebrows dipped and the girl's brow furrowed in puzzlement. "Baterilla?" she repeated faintly after a short pause.

"Who might you be?" Rouge asked kindly.

Golden eyes refocused on her face. "I am Fox," her guest said simply.

"No surname?"

Fox glanced at her warily. "Not one I care to mention."

So her guest was either a runaway from a wealthy background or had pirate relatives who had made her family name infamous. Rouge could tell now that Fox was a trained combatant, as even sitting in bed she moved a bit like Roger did: deliberation and strength underpinning everything no matter how trivial.

"You are welcome to stay with me as long as you wish," Rouge said generously, deciding this was the best thing to do. This girl was clearly all alone in the world judging by her sorrow and besides that she was interesting in a way that Rouge had only seen before in her lover. Fox had depth and undercurrents despite her youth and it would be interesting to see what came to light during her stay. Baterilla was increasingly boring in Roger's absence and she rather wanted to know what her lover would make of the girl when he returned.

The girl smiled a little bleakly. "Thank-you for the honour you do me, Portgas D. Rouge," she murmured with a reserved politeness that suggested a very strict and affluent upbringing. "I will do my best to prove myself worthy of it."

* * *

Fox liked Portgas D. Rouge very much. Part of it was that the woman was the mother of her darling Kajin, but the strawberry blonde also had a quiet but highly entertaining sense of humour, a sharp mind and was naturally very personable. Half the town's unmarried men had crushes on her and she was regularly proposed to, though she turned them all down.

It had taken Fox six days to determine exactly _when_ she was, time she spent wandering around the town like a ghost, stealing newspapers and shamelessly eavesdropping on all kinds of different people. She didn't think she was in the past; it was more likely this was an alternate dimension of some kind like Dr Vegapunk had mentioned once as a theoretical mathematics exercise while she was in hearing range. Something along the lines of everything happening somewhere and different choices spawning different futures occurring concurrently; she hadn't paid much attention as she hadn't believed the world worked like that. Being proved wrong was a surprise, but one she could live with.

More troubling was that she was on Baterilla in the January of the year of Gol D. Roger's execution, which was a very bad place for a woman to be. She had no intention of getting caught up in the purges so she never ventured out of Rouge's very beautiful and large home without calling up her Colour of Concealment so strongly the townsfolk never noticed her properly. As Rouge was also rather solitary she hadn't noticed this yet, but Fox was sure she would in time. Her Hothead had always been sharp as a knife and he certainly hadn't got that from his father if Spitfire was anything to go by. Becoming Spadille had further honed that sharpness as he had become more patient and willing to wait, plot and scheme before obliterating an enemy.

Fox had no idea how her Kajin's mother had managed to both hide and prolong her pregnancy without detrimentally affecting him, but she intended to stay at least until the child of the current Pirate King –a child that wasn't even conceived yet– was born. She wasn't even sure the baby would be a boy –this was not her own past after all– but Rouge was the only connection she had to her Kajin in this painfully similar yet alien environment so she would not stray far from the younger woman in what little time the strawberry blonde had left.

* * *

In her first two months on Baterilla Fox did not waste her time: she practiced with Zanchou and with haki as she had not done in almost a decade, honing her edge to razor sharpness and letting the intense activity soothe the painful wounds in her mind. She had not had her Kajin and Asura torn from her mind as her former nakama had been, but despite the bonds still existing she couldn't feel anything from them. Her other bonds were tight and aching in a way that spoke of terrible grief and unspeakable distance and she mourned for her children, her nakama and those other friends and relatives she had left behind. Marco in particular would be devastated: she had promised she would be there for him when the last of his brothers passed away and now she couldn't be.

No, she refused to accept that. She had promised and 'Fox' Lisska, wife of Edward D. Spadille and Roronoa Zoro, daughter of Dracule Mihawk and granddaughter of Silvers Rayleigh, did not break her promises. The Florian Triangle was the reason she was here, so that meant it was also the key to getting back. Those ties to home and family were not broken, which meant they still existed in some way, shape or form and bonds always brought people together. If she was thrown out of the world again those bonds would tighten and drag her home.

It was a strange ambition, but she would do her best to see it through as soon as she had determined what had happened to her husbands. They hadn't been left behind, but neither were they here. In fact, they didn't seem to be anywhere. So she would wait and see, find out more about this slightly distorted double of her own home and look after Rouge until she gave birth, which may or may not prove fatal to the woman in question depending on whether what was wrong with her at that point in time was something Fox could fix. Then she'd decide what to do next based on what she'd managed to learn in that time.

* * *

In the beginning of March Gol D. Roger walked down the hillside and into Rouge's house through the back door while Fox was preparing the dinner.

"Hello! Who are you?" he asked with a cheerful deep voice that accompanied a presence that reminded the blonde assassin so much of her own Captain and King that it was physically painful.

"I'm Fox; Rouge is in the sun room," she said calmly, letting her pain wash through her without affecting her voice or body language. It was however in vain: Roger was just as observant as Luffy had eventually become where emotional pain was concerned.

"Are you alright?" He asked, genuine concern colouring both his tone and his presence. Fox turned her head and smiled a little sadly.

"Not really, but I will be in time," she assured him. "I lost everyone I cared about but Rouge is looking after me now."

"That's a shame," Roger commiserated without an ounce of pity, "but I'm sure your nakama wouldn't want you to be unhappy. Do you know where Rouge is?"

Fox smiled more genuinely this time. So, so like her own King. "The sun room," she repeated. "Dinner will be in about an hour."

After Roger arrived Fox was able to get away more often, frequently leaving the island altogether to acquire funds, resources and get a feel for the politics and local black market of the surrounding area. Her sea chest contained a lot of very useful stuff and wouldn't open for anyone incapable of using haki to pick locks as it had no keyhole, was made of Adam Wood and had the hinges on the inside. To most people it was just a very heavy rectangular wooden cuboid, but it contained copies of all of Fox' previous Logbooks plus her current original and what few of her possessions were not easily replaced. This included maps, Suiatsu the Sea Stone wakizashi Zoro had forged for her, a few small photo albums and a variety of odds and ends including some of her children's milk teeth. It also contained a few changes of clothes, her sewing and medical kits, a mixed stash of other weapons and money. Fox was wary of using the money as she had looked at what was currently in use and deduced her wad of beli would not be useable for another thirty years at least due to the serial numbers. This was why she was visiting nearby islands and robbing people blind.

Fox couldn't help liking Roger, for all he reminded her so much of her Captain it hurt. Perhaps this was how Grandpa Ray had felt when he met Luffy; it seemed likely. He had more of a temper than Luffy –she could sense it lurking under the surface– though he was better at remembering names, so his stories were rather more coherent. The blonde assassin was willing to listen to any number of the Pirate King's adventures when she was actually in the house and Roger was perfectly happy to tell her his entire life story starting back when he'd been twenty and first met Rayleigh. Fox paid attention, wrote them all down afterwards before going to bed and compared them to the stories she'd cajoled out of her grandpa over the years. The gist was much the same, but each storyteller remembered different bits and focused on different things. Fox intended to blend the corresponding stories together and write them up in a book of tales that would hopefully tempt a black-market publisher somewhere into parting with a small fortune. She'd done just that a decade after Luffy made it to the top, writing his journey from Dawn Island in East Blue to Raftel in the New World from her own notes and the stories she'd picked up from both crew and various friends. Listening to Roger meant she'd also acquired a bit of humorous blackmail on both Rayleigh and Shanks which she would hopefully get a chance to use; she refused to contemplate the possibility of being stuck here forever.

* * *

Fox noticed Rouge's pregnancy long before the woman herself did; it appeared on her senses about halfway through the first week of May. Fox surreptitiously examined her strawberry blonde host while helping with the laundry and determined that the not-quite-embryo was male and definitely identical to the Ace she remembered from before Marineford. She also did what she could to invisibly boost Rouge's health: the younger woman needed all the help she could get. When six weeks later Rouge noticed herself and told Roger, Fox was dragged out of the study she'd been given as her own private space and hugged by a cheerfully roaring Pirate King who really needed another twenty people to share his enthusiasm with. Fox was strongly reminded of Garp in that moment and hugged him back, offering her congratulations. Roger then put her down and gave her a sly look.

"But you knew already, didn't you Fox-chan?"

Fox shrugged; she could no more lie to this man than she could to her own captain. "It wasn't my news to share," she said lightly.

"You know I'm dying, don't you Fox-chan?"

The blonde nodded, her looped braids swinging. "It is obvious to me," she agreed. There wasn't anything she could do about it either, sadly. Not unless she wanted to torture him with the pain prolonging his life would cause. Killing him would be kinder, as would letting him get executed if he chose that route.

Roger looked thoughtful. "Would you stay with Rouge until the baby's born? I'd like her to have someone strong to protect her after I'm gone."

Fox considered his request and what it would really mean to her. A proper Contract, but a dangerous one considering what she knew was coming.

"I will promise to protect your lover until she has given birth to her child on the condition that you do not mention my existence or presence here to anyone," she said finally. "I work better from the shadows and it will be easier for me to do my job if nobody realises I exist."

"Like the townsfolk don't know you exist?" Ah, so he _had_ noticed.

"That's right," Fox agreed, waiting for his decision.

"I can agree to that," Roger said easily. "I won't mention you at all."

"And I will protect Portgas D. Rouge from any and all external harm that comes her way until she has given birth," Fox concluded, the statement settling the ground under her feet in a way nothing else ever managed to save her beloved husbands and children. She had purpose again; eighteen long months of it. She would have to move quickly in order to be prepared for the siege.

* * *

Fox sat on the roof of one of the buildings edging the main square in Loguetown, watching the crowd and the execution stand as above her head the sky grew darker and more ominous and the minutes slowly ticked forwards. From her perch at the back of the square, right next to the road leading back to the docks, she could pick out a great many different pirates watching the stand upon which Roger was kneeling, his trademark grin firmly in place. There was Moriah, Mihawk –looking impossibly young and far too much like her own second son had at the same age– Crocodile, Doflamingo, Beckman –she hadn't known he'd been here– Buggy, Shanks and, right at the back and not far from the building she had staked out, Monkey D. Dragon. She couldn't see any faces from where she was sitting but she didn't need to: her Devil Fruit enabled her to recognise people by their unique life-sign and even though some of those were not exactly as she remembered them being –Crocodile for one was yet to eat his own Devil Fruit– they were similar enough. Shanks in particular was painfully familiar; Mihawk on the other hand was more muted, narrow and closed off in a way she'd never known him to be in her own world, which made her feel a little melancholy.

This Mihawk might never be a father, would never help raise a part-mermaid daughter and wouldn't retire to train his grandchildren in the way of the sword after losing his title to a worthy successor. He wouldn't hand over the famous black sword Yoru to his oldest granddaughter and then watch with a faint, dry smile as she shook the very foundations of the world in the pursuit of her dream.

So she watched as Roger gave his final words and the skies opened, washing his blood across the stand and towards the ground as the crowd cheered madly, all fired up by the Pirate King's last challenge. Fox did not cheer; instead she wept for an unborn child who would never meet his father, for her own lost family whom she finally recognised she might never see again, for the tens of thousands who would die as a result of the World Government's determination to cover up the happenings of the Void Century and the nobility's ridiculous obsession with power and control.

* * *

Shanks ambled alone through the streets of Loguetown after his former captain's execution, the rain soaking through his clothes and dripping through the weave of his hat. It was like the sky was crying. Buggy hadn't wanted to join him as part of his crew, which meant the redhead would have to start from scratch. East Blue was known as the weakest sea, but Shanks was sure there were a few worthwhile people here and there: this was the sea his captain had been born to. In fact, this was his captain's home town. A strange thought indeed, as Shanks had always believed Roger to be a child of the Grand Line as it was the only place that could even attempt to keep up with the man.

A scuffle and a shout penetrated through the steady patter of rainfall and the teenage pirate turned just in time to see a tall girl about his own age with very long hair lay out two thugs who had clearly been attempting to mug her. Another five men stepped forwards to get back at the very cute blonde in a completely sodden dress who had just sent their buddies into dreamland, but Shanks couldn't just stand by and watch such an unfair fight so he waded into the fray. Less than a minute later Shanks and the girl were the only two still standing so the pirate turned and smiled at her, holding out a hand.

"Hi there!" he said cheerfully, tipping his hat backwards so the rain stopped dripping off the brim onto his face. "I'm Shanks; who might you be?"

The blonde smiled back, the expression far more wry and melancholy than it had any right to be. "I'm Fox. Thanks for your help." She really was very pretty and not just because her dress was white and clinging to her body in a positively indecent manner. He'd never seen anybody anywhere with hair that long before and she had truly stunning eyes.

"Are you going to be alright?" the redhead asked solicitously. "Can I escort you home or something? You're absolutely soaked."

"So are you," the girl pointed out amicably, seemingly not bothered by the show she was giving him, "and I'm afraid home is a very, very long way away." She sighed, her brow briefly furrowing in a way Shanks knew from experience meant she was in some kind of pain. "So far away I can't get back."

"You're alone?" Shanks knew what that was like; he was alone too now. "What about family? Friends?" His former crew were still his friends and he knew that if he ever needed it he could go to them and they'd probably help him, not that he ever intended to do so.

Fox closed her eyes and tilted her head back so the rain could fall directly on her face. "There is nobody in the whole world who considers me to be either a friend or a member of their family," she said simply, "and you are one of just two people alive who know my name."

Oh. Ouch. Shanks couldn't even contemplate how horrible that would be. To have nobody know you, nobody who cared for you, nobody to share the wonders of life with or remember you when you were gone? That was hell right there. And yes, Fox was crying: he could see the tears welling up despite the raindrops streaming down her face. He couldn't leave her here like that.

"Come on Fox-chan, there's got to be a decent bar open somewhere around here," he said, wrapping an arm around her waist and noticing as he did that she was several inches taller than he was. "You'll feel better once you've dried off a bit and had a drink."

She snorted, opening her eyes a crack to glance at him sideways. "A date, Shanks-kun? Isn't this a bit sudden? We have only just met." Her tone was dry but playful and she didn't seem at all opposed to the idea, so the redhead grinned at her.

"Well it isn't every day I rescue beautiful women from vicious thugs, you know," he teased, leading the way back towards the establishment he remembered passing earlier.

"Rescue? I think I was doing pretty well by myself," Fox countered, poking him in the ribs. "I could have taken them all out easily."

"But such a lovely lady as yourself shouldn't have to!" Shanks declared with another wide grin, waving his free hand extravagantly. His companion rolled her eyes but didn't try to make him to let go of her; in fact she leaned into him slightly as they walked up the road under the pounding rain. Shanks considered that to be very promising indeed.

* * *

Three days later Fox was sitting on another roof, this one belonging to Baterilla's only church. Below her Marines dashed hither and thither and screams rang out in the air all around her as women and children were slaughtered and men were killed for attempting to protect their wives. Rouge was safe at home, a corset the blonde assassin had fashioned for her pressing the baby bump back within her body so it did not show through the younger woman's dress. Wearing such an item was terribly damaging to Rouge's own body as her internal organs would be under even greater pressure as the pregnancy progressed, but Fox knew that the only thing Rouge cared about right now was her baby's survival and the amber-eyed D would cheerfully damn herself for her child's sake.

Rouge had remained safe thus far as nobody knew about her affair with the late Pirate King and she had no close friends whom she trusted with her condition. The loose, high-waisted gowns she favoured also concealed her growing belly, so when the Marines had arrived early that morning they had overlooked her.

As she sat invisibly on the church roof Fox pressed a hand to her own flat belly, savouring the wonderful feeling of new life that was blooming there. Morally speaking, having sex with Shanks had been completely wrong of her; he was fifteen and she was over three times that for all she had stopped aging completely before she even reached twenty thanks to her own Devil Fruit. However she couldn't bring herself to feel even a single iota of shame. She had always loved Shanks, probably would always love Shanks and it had been so wonderful to see that Shanks was just as charming and improbably deep in this world as he had been in her own that she hadn't been able to resist the invitation to spend the night with him in a room above the bar he'd taken her to. Now she carried his unborn child within her and even though Baterilla was currently the last place in the world a pregnant woman should be, she had confidence in her ability to both defend Rouge and protect her own child.

Not being entirely sure how long the siege would last, Fox intended to slow her own pregnancy down a little in the hope that she would be able to give birth once her contract was up. If that proved impossible, well, she had tried and haki would ensure her baby remained unnoticed by the Marines. She could safely delay her own pregnancy by two months at the most, which would lead to her giving birth eleven months after conceiving. If everything went as it had in her own world Ace would be born another four months later. Further delay to her own pregnancy would only reduce her ability to protect Rouge and cause her Devil Fruit to kick in, which would be even more dangerous to her baby as there was a good change that a deeper connection would form between them, which carried a risk of the assassin accidentally imposing her own will and personality on the infant's developing mind, or so she suspected from her experience of previous connections.

Fox smiled, lightly dropping down from her perch and slipping between the buildings on her way back to Rouge, the spark in her belly burning brightly to her senses. She wasn't alone anymore.

* * *

"The Government are sure to trace all of my activities in this last year: they'll find her and they'll kill her! But a child who is yet to be born bares no sin Garp! The two of us have nearly killed each-other so many times Garp… We're like old pals now, aren't we?! I trust you as much as I'd trust my own crewmates! Protect my child!"

* * *

Monkey D. Garp hadn't promised Gol D. Roger anything, but the man's words to him concerning his lover and child lingered. He had not been sent to Baterilla until a bit over a year after the execution, when the Government lockdown was lifted and he was required to ensure the actions of the Marine forces in the pursuit of Justice did not provoke further unrest in the populace. Part of him believed it likely that Roger's lover was already dead, but the rest of him was certain that a woman who loved and was loved by such a powerful man had to be cunning and capable enough to keep herself from being noticed.

Part of his duties involved visiting the locals, so the greying Vice-Admiral did so and it saddened him to see so few women and no children under the age of four. There were also very few young men, most of them having died protecting their wives and lovers. Grandparents watched him cautiously as older children hid behind their remaining relatives and cried silently, too afraid to even make a sound. Garp never stayed longer than he had to and bitterly resented having been given this duty. What had happened on this island wasn't justice; Roger had been right to say that children were born without sin. No child deserved to suffer as these wide-eyed, broken youngsters had.

The last house he visited during his four-week stay was that of a woman called Portgas D. Rouge, whose father had been rather well off and left her perfectly able to support herself. She was single and lived alone with just an elderly maid and an aging butler for company, both of whom had served her family all their lives. Garp was of the opinion she was a fairly likely candidate for being the lover of the Pirate King all things considered, but she had survived the purges which made it unlikely.

"Monkey D. Garp."

The Vice-Admiral spun around to face the speaker. It was a tall, slim blonde woman with ridiculously long hair wearing a bleached white shirt and hakama in the Wano style, except no Wano native would ever wear the colour of death so openly. She was too still, too poised and too confident, standing there with a hand resting on the hilt of the larger blade of a white wrapped daisho pair shoved though the right side of her white obi.

"Who are you?" Garp hadn't seen her, which was strange but not impossible, but he hadn't sensed her either which was worrying considering how proficient he was with haki. She'd literally appeared out of nowhere.

"I am Fox," the woman said evenly, looking up to meet his eyes and surprising him with the hawk-like golden orbs that stared holes in his skull. Was this woman related to the swordsman who had just started to make a name for himself last year, Dracule 'Hawk-Eye' Mihawk?

"What brings you here?" Fox asked him. Garp got the distinct impression she knew exactly what he'd been doing in town; it wasn't like he'd made a secret of it. He also realised that Roger was a sneaky old bastard who was causing him headaches even from beyond the grave. This woman had to be why Roger had been so damn _certain_ his lover would live to give birth to his child.

"Roger asked me to protect his child."

"Will you?"

Garp paused. What the hell; why not? After everything he'd seen on Baterilla he couldn't deny a child the right to live. "Yes."

Fox turned and walked past him, opening the front door with the hand not resting on the hilt of her sword. "Do come inside, Vice-Admiral. Rouge went into labour late this morning and I really need to be there to ensure her heart doesn't give out before she finally gives birth."

Garp hurried after the incredibly dangerous woman Roger had dug up on some remote island somewhere to protect his lover and idly wondered how old she was. Not as old as he was certainly, but she was definitely older than the eighteen she appeared to be. No child had that cool aura of acceptance around them, the understanding of death and the willingness to kill regardless. Was she a similar age to his son, perhaps? She could plausibly be twenty-five… she had one of those ageless faces some women did.

* * *

Rouge panted harshly and leaned heavily against Fox, who was kneeling behind the pale and sweating pregnant woman on the bed and giving her something to brace herself against. Portgas D. Rouge had systematically ruined her own health over the past year keeping her pregnancy hidden and delaying birth, so despite Fox's constant care and subtle use of power she didn't have much time left.

"Push," Fox urged her, the assassin's Ability working in Rouge's body to ease the birth along more smoothly and monitoring the health of the baby. She had initially hoped she might be able to prevent this world's Ace from being orphaned, but Rouge had put her body under such strain that –even if giving birth didn't kill her– half her internal organs were getting to the point of being irreversibly damaged and Fox had already had to kill off numerous incipient cancerous growths in the interests of keeping her patient as healthy as possible. Most of those minute tumours had been located in her torso and would have put her health under further pressure despite being mostly benign. Fox believed those growths to be a further sign that Rouge had worn her body out to the point that it had stopped functioning properly and the assassin honestly believed that she would be better off dying sooner rather than later; the complications of liver and kidney failure were just nasty and it could take days to die of it.

Rouge pushed, the aging maid caught the large and very healthy baby boy and Fox swiftly cut herself off from her patient before sliding off the bed to take the baby, wash it, dry it and wrap it in a warm blanket.

"It's a boy," she told Rouge, turning with the baby in her arms as the newborn opened his mouth and screamed his outrage to the world. Fox couldn't blame him; she'd been emoting with him for the past year and the outside world was a far cry from the comfort and safety of the womb. She held out the bundle of baby and blanket for Rouge to take.

Rouge took a deep, hoarse breath. "If it's a girl, then Anne," she rasped, "and if it's a boy, Ace. That's the name he chose-" she took another harsh breath, "-for this child. Gol D. Ace is the name of our child." She slumped forwards, shuddering as Ace screamed.

"Rouge!" the maid shouted anxiously, hurrying forwards as Fox swiftly retrieved Ace from the dying woman's slackening grasp and adjusted her shirt so she could lift the baby to her breast. Her own son was four months old and nowhere near weaned so she had no shortage of milk to share. Ace cries quickly stopped as he suckled and she murmured gently to him, wrapping the Colour of Concealment lightly around them both as she used her Ability to reconnect with him. He did recognise her, but it had taken him a while to get past his new situation to connect her physical presence and scent to the voice he had heard so many times and the trickle of foreign emotion and affection that had occasionally touched him.

"Fox?"

The blonde assassin turned at once, shedding the haki concealing her as she met Rouge's eyes. "Yes Rouge?"

"Fox, take care of Ace for me?" Rouge asked weakly, leaning heavily on the maid as the pool of bright blood haemorrhaging onto the mattress beneath her grew larger. "Please, raise him as you own son. I know… know you love him like I do."

"Portgas D. Rouge, I will raise your son and love him as my own," Fox promised, her fingers gently stroking the damp black strands covering the top of Ace's head. "No harm will come to him so long as he is in my care."

Rouge smiled. "Thank-you," she breathed, then collapsed completely. Fox ignored the commotion this raised, leaving the room with baby Ace still cradled against her chest. She would miss Rouge terribly as the woman had become a friend, but Ace needed her just as much as her own son did and she would have to find a safe place to raise them both. Blaze was a gorgeous little charmer with his father's smile and his dark hair was showing strands of scarlet that suggested he'd have hair as red as Shanks' own before long. Fox was going to have to find somewhere quiet and secluded to raise her boys, well off the beaten track and moderately safe. A deserted island would be all of those things, but her sons would need human interaction in order to properly grow. Unfortunately, showing up in an out-of-the-way village with two babies and no husband was just asking for trouble.

Entering the nursery where her son was sleeping Fox draped a rag over her shoulder, gently burped baby Ace and then tucked him into the cradle beside her son. Both babies were much the same size, which meant she could pass them off as fraternal twins. Good. She set about finishing the packing she'd started when Garp had first arrived on the island; she'd not expected Rouge to give Ace to her and had intended to quietly leave with Blaze as soon as her Contract with Roger was up. All things considered though she was much happier with the idea of Ace being raised by her than the thought of this baby going through a childhood like the one her Kajin had experienced. His memories on that subject had been… educational.

"Fox."

The assassin turned, placing herself between the Vice-Admiral and the cradle. The greying Marine glanced past her and his eyes widened.

"Another baby?! How?"

"Blaze is my son," Fox said, "and I am very, very good at hiding myself from others' notice. Nobody outside this house has ever seen me so my pregnancy was never brought to the Marines' attention."

Garp frowned but nodded, accepting her words. "Where are you going to go?" he asked.

Fox shrugged. "Anywhere. Nowhere. Somewhere a very long way away from here. North Blue maybe?"

"You don't have family you could stay with?"

Fox snorted. "You are now one of four living people who know my name. My son's father and Rouge's servants make up the other three. I know I have blood family out there somewhere but they don't even know I exist and I certainly won't approach them while I have two babies to care for. I have no idea where my son's father is either, not that the man even knows he has a child."

Garp frowned again, looking rather like Luffy did when he was thinking too hard. Then he smiled. "Come with me! I promised Roger I'd protect his child and this way I can keep that promise. I'll take you to my home village in East Blue and you can raise both boys there."

Fox considered it. It would work. It also meant she could keep an eye on this world's Luffy when he was eventually born. Plus, Shanks had shown up there in her own world when Luffy was six. That might not happen here, but it was as good a chance as any and she did need to tell the redhead he was a father sooner or later. While mermaid traditions held that if a man didn't ask a past lover about possible children then he wasn't interested in whether or not she'd had any, Fox had grown up around Shanks. The one in this world seemed almost completely identical and she knew _her_ Shanks would have wanted to be told. She wondered if she could get the redhead to faint; Beckman had been rather gleeful about retelling the story of how his captain had blacked out when her own father had forced him to face the possibility of having children or maybe even grandchildren.

She bowed. "Thank-you for your care; I would be honoured to accept."

Garp laughed. "None of that please! You're a strong, capable woman and I'm sure you'll raise my little grandson into a fine Marine!"

Fox raised an eyebrow and loosened up a little. "Marine? Vice-Admiral, you have no idea who I am or what I do for a living. What makes you think I'd raise the boys to be Marines when there are so many other productive things they could be doing?" She paused. "And if Ace is your grandson, does that make me your daughter or your daughter-in-law?"

Garp laughed again and slapped her on the back hard; haki reinforcement prevented her from stumbling. "I'd be proud to call you my daughter, Fox!"

Fox smiled dryly. "Well, I could do worse," she muttered.

* * *

When Fox had agreed to let Garp take her to his home village, she hadn't expected to find Dragon still living there. Then again, Fuusha was where Luffy had been born so she should have expected it really. She also hadn't expected Garp to introduce them to the locals as 'my daughter Fox and her sons!' which instantly got the local rumour mill grinding and the next day everyone was talking about how Garp had brought home his illegitimate daughter and her twin sons to live in his house. By the end of the week six different versions of who she was, who her mother had been and who her children's father was were doing the rounds; Fox personally liked the one which cast her mother as a princess, her husband –recently deceased– as a Marine Captain and her sons as heirs to a throne somewhere and being raised in Fuusha to protect them from assassins.

Garp hadn't stuck around to enjoy the fallout of his bringing home a young, single woman with two baby sons; instead he'd visited his own son the following day, had a very loud and violent argument with Dragon –who Fox thought looked very young and grumpy without the tattoo and habitual smirk she was used to seeing on his face– then sailed off again. Fox hadn't seen him off, being busy settling into the large, traditional house belonging to the Monkey family and caring for her sons. She'd managed to get the Vice-Admiral to see things her way during the voyage and he'd entered them in the village records as 'Blaze and Ace, sons of Fox' with a birth date of November the first, precisely halfway between the boys' actual birthdays. Considering Ace was rather large for a three-week-old and about the same weight as Blaze who was nearly five months old, it was easy to pass them off as three-month-old twins. Garp had added her to the registry as his adopted daughter, which hadn't stopped the rumours going around that he was her biological father. Rather it added to them –once a few bright sparks had the idea of consulting the registry– so that her father became a colleague of Garp's, a noble or even an old enemy.

Fox had long since decided that in order to fit herself properly into her respective families' history she would have to pass herself off as her Grandpa Ray's daughter. Fitting herself into her father's family would have been trickier, but she'd actually managed to wheedle a bit of family history out of said father after Zoro took his title and he retired from the Shichibukai. He'd told her about an aunt who'd disgraced herself by having an affair with somebody when he was four. Officially she and the child had both died during the birth, but Mihawk had suspected the baby had actually been gotten rid of. The assassin had investigated for herself and determined that the missing child had been female and had indeed been gotten rid of: her great-aunt's scorned husband had sold the newborn at an underground market as an indentured servant who would be cared and provided for until the age of four, after which she would have to spend the next ten years paying back her 'master' for his expenses. Fox had tracked the contract and determined that the baby girl had been relatively lucky: she'd died of illness aged three. Now stuck in an alternate past however Fox intended to steal the child's identity and claim that the man who had bought her had faked her death, sold her contract on and that she had been trained as a child assassin by her new owner. That would account for her extensive education and combat skills, as well as her stealth.

She'd already given Garp the bare bones of this fiction, leading him to believe that Roger had killed her owners towards the end of his last voyage, 'confiscated' her and later taken her with him to Baterilla so she could look after Rouge. The Vice-Admiral never asked if she knew who her parents were and she never volunteered the information; Silvers Rayleigh was considered a very current menace and Garp had never been very good at keeping secrets.

* * *

Fox's first visitor in her new home was a teenage girl with green-lit black hair carrying a covered basket of hot food. The girl introduced herself as Makino and explained that her mother had sent her since Fox was probably too busy with the babies to cook. Fox had to admit that caring for two babies at once without anybody else to help her was a bit more effort than she'd been expecting –Ace in particular required constant attention– and accepted the food with heartfelt thanks. Makino was then invited inside and shown the babies. The teenager noticed that Blaze's hair was going red, cooed over how adorable they both were and left ten minutes later to spread the news around the village; Makino was the daughter of the owner of Fuusha Village's only bar. As expected the blonde got more visitors in the following weeks, most of them women bringing food and various necessaries for the care of infants. Fox was grateful, polite and when they inevitably asked after the children's father she would sigh, mention that she was married but that she didn't even know if he was still alive. It bothered her sometimes that her connections to Spadille and Zoro remained dark and empty, present but unusable. Mostly in the evenings after a hard day keeping house, tending the vegetable patch and hunting in the woods while caring for two increasingly active babies, as it was then that she missed their presence the most.

Blaze and Ace were both completely weaned by their shared official birthday, crawling not long after and by the time Ace was eighteen months old he was toddling everywhere, still unsteady on his feet but extremely fast moving. Fox had taken to wearing her hair in two braids and using it to stop her boys from getting away from her, which both children found completely wonderful. Sometimes they ran away from her just so as to be snatched up into the air and carried back to her side by a nineteen-foot, haki-animated braid as they crowed and squealed in glee.

Fox still didn't quite belong in Fuusha village, but Dragon's delightfully vivacious wife was the closest thing she had to a friend and the younger woman –who firmly believed herself to be older than Fox– visited almost every day to help keep house and chat. Dragon was often away, apparently working but Fox knew better. She'd never known exactly when the Revolutionary Army got going but that was certainly what Dragon was busy setting up; she wondered if he'd met Kuma or Ivankov yet. Fox found it mildly amusing that while Garp was convinced she was at least twenty-six like his own son, the villagers of Fuusha had completely independently decided she was not yet eighteen. This fitted with the age Rouge had thought she was, as the strawberry blonde had congratulated her on turning fifteen shortly before Roger's execution then a year later bought her a present just after Blaze was born to celebrate her being sixteen. The assassin hadn't protested the assumption; the younger people thought she was the better. Not aging became a problem when the people around you realised you were supposed to be in your mid-forties but looked the same age as your grown-up children and Fox was actually going to be fifty-four just after Blaze turned two, making her technically only five months younger than this world's Whitebeard. Not that she looked it.

Dragon she had barely seen at all, leading the villagers to mutter that Garp's son was angry at his father bringing home a bastard child and installing her in the family home. Fox knew that wasn't the problem; Dragon had moved out well before Fox even arrived in order to distance himself from his Marine father. The problem was that Dragon thought Fox had some kind of connection to the Marines and so stayed away to avoid the risk of discovery and arrest. The young revolutionary had more brains than his father and eventual son combined and could tell she was both powerful and very dangerous. Thinking about it, Dragon probably thought Fox was associated with Marine Intelligence and took her presence as a sign that his father was taking issue with his views on the World Government. Fox would have liked to disabuse him of such a ridiculous notion but he never gave her a chance to do so and having two energetic and increasingly wilful toddlers to keep in line –Ace was already showing signs of a desperate need for anger management– meant she couldn't hunt him down for a private chat. So she kept her head down, trained in private, raised her sons, kept in touch with a number of reliable if not exactly trustworthy people by letter-case and occasionally parted with partial copies of various maps in exchange for generous amounts of money. Not that she _told_ anyone that the maps she sold were partial copies; the very existence of most of the islands she left off was currently unknown and she wanted to keep it that way for a while longer.

* * *

Shortly after her sons' official third birthday Dragon's wife announced her pregnancy and Fox started to get a bit worried about her non-existent relationship with her 'brother'. She had experienced herself the perils of giving birth to the firstborn child of a D: it had been a very near thing and had she not eaten the Devil Fruit she had it might well have killed her. She'd investigated afterwards and found out that women who married Ds very frequently died in childbirth or shortly after unless they were Ds themselves, Rouge being an exception considering she'd deliberately ruined her health delaying Ace' birth. It had sent Spadille into a depressed, guilt-ridden and paranoid tizzy for _months_ and he had later gone out of his way to learn how to adjust his body temperature so he couldn't get her pregnant again. It had taken her five _years_ to get him to stop doing it and in the end she'd had to enlist help and call in debts from a variety of different people in order to distract him sufficiently that he forgot to keep it going for enough time for her to conceive again. He'd been utterly horrified afterwards and had fussed over her dreadfully in between going out and killing things –and any number of people– to work off his nerves during the following nine months, but the pregnancy had gone swimmingly and she'd given birth without any problem at all.

Fox had guessed that it was the Will of D –which the firstborn was the heir to– that presented the problem rather than anything inherent to the genetics of the father, but considering that Garp, Dragon, Spitfire and Luffy had all grown up without mothers it wasn't really something she could test. In fact, investigation proved she was the _only_ wife or lover of a D who _hadn't_ died providing said D with an heir that the Sea Network could find. Luffy had not liked hearing that and had immediately enlisted her, Chopper _and_ Law to prevent his own wife from dying as a result of her recent pregnancy. They'd succeeded, but it really had taken _all_ of their efforts to do so. Law had taken her research away afterwards and spent the next three years trying to work out what the Will of D actually _was_ but had eventually published their joint findings and set the matter aside. Fox suspected that he just didn't want to admit the problem was more mystical than physical and therefore not medically fixable. As Law was a D himself, admitting that had probably been difficult, moreso when he didn't know which of his parents he had inherited the 'D' from.

As her sister-in-law's pregnancy progressed and Dragon stubbornly kept his distance, Fox began to fear that she'd lose yet another friend to childbirth: her idiot brother certainly wasn't going to let her anywhere _near_ his wife while the sweet, round-faced woman was giving birth.

Despite Dragon's continued aloof behaviour and stubborn refusal to even _talk_ to her, as soon as Fox sensed that his wife was starting to go into labour she asked Makino to babysit, grabbed her medical kit and hurried across town to see if she could help. However she had barely got in the door when Dragon noticed her and caught her by the arm.

"Fox-san, what brings you here?" he asked politely but coldly.

Fox wanted to hit him over the head with her bag and tell him to stop being a fool, but did not. Her friend's life was on the line. "I have medical experience," she said calmly, "and your wife is my friend, so I thought I should be here for the birth."

"The midwife and the doctor are here already, Fox-san," Dragon replied, face impassive. "Your assistance is unnecessary."

Fox snapped. She could handle Dragon being an idiot –it was no skin off her nose– but his condemning his wife to almost certain death out of needless paranoia was another matter entirely. Not that Dragon knew that was the likely outcome of his latest decision. Unfortunately however she couldn't just barge in regardless as he'd try to stop her and things would get messy. So she took a deep breath, swallowed her temper and slapped her idiot adoptive sibling hard across the face. With haki.

"You, Monkey D. Dragon," she said dangerously as the man slowly raised a hand to the red, smarting mark on his cheek in total disbelief, "are _twice_ the fool your father ever was." Then she turned on her heel and marched out before she did anything she would later regret.

After sending Makino home Fox stayed in and played with her sons. Both were getting very good at the stretching exercises, tumbling tricks, basic combat stances and other games she was teaching them to improve their balance and hand-eye coordination and keep them busy. It was still a bit early for proper training but Ace was regulating his strength better and Blaze was showing unusually sharp reflexes that needed cultivating. Both boys also loved being read to, whether it was tales of adventure from the book on Roger's voyages that she'd recently finished or details of the strange and wonderful islands on the Grand Line and their inhabitants. The blonde assassin deliberately reduced the range of her Colour of Observation to just beyond the boundaries of the house, not wanting to feel what was going on in the village when she wasn't allowed to help.

Evening came, she tucked both boys into bed and once they were asleep she sat at the kitchen table with her latest letters and set about answering them, enclosing money so that her contacts would not feel taken advantage of. She had released the letter-cases out the back door and was writing in her Log Book when she sensed Dragon outside the door, feeling like he'd had a hole ripped through him. Setting her pen aside, Fox walked to the front door and opened it to her foster-brother, stepping aside so he could come into the house.

Dragon walked inside, his feet carrying him into the main room where he came to a stop seemingly without noticing. Fox followed him, noting his heavy tread and vacant stare. He looked like a man in dire need of a shoulder to cry on, but considering he didn't trust her that far she'd have to settle for giving him alcohol. With this in mind she retrieved a bottle of good rum, poured him a shot and wordlessly handed it over. Dragon accepted the glass and downed it, then coughed as it hit his throat.

"What?" he muttered, blinking and returning to himself a little.

"Dragon, talk to me," Fox said firmly, looking him in the eye as her haki brushed over the bundle tucked in the crook of his arm. However young and unformed, Luffy's presence was unique.

Dragon focused on her briefly then bowed his head. "My wife is dead," he rasped, "and I… my son… Luffy… "

Luffy chose this moment to wake and decide he was hungry, screaming his displeasure. Fox swiftly channelled her Devil Fruit Ability through her torso to produce the right hormones and kicked her mammary glands into high gear; this she could deal with. Firmly she lifted the screaming baby out of Dragon's arms and rocked him close, humming absently as she loosened her shirt both to accommodate her abrupt increase in bust size and to allow the newborn to feed. A minute later Luffy was fully occupied and Dragon was staring at her like he'd never seen her before.

"How is that possible?" he asked. Since he was actually paying attention to her rather than allowing grief to consume him, Fox answered in the interests of keeping him distracted.

"I'm a Devil Fruit User: my Ability gives me considerable control over my body." Not to the extent that Emporio Ivankov could manipulate _his_ body, but the Okama King's occasional assistance over the years had considerably expanded Fox' range of useful skills. The ability to breastfeed at the drop of a hat had come in very handy any number of times, not all of them involving babies. "Do you want me to care for your son for you?"

Dragon looked at her. Really looked, rather than just seeing what he thought was there. "Who are you?" he asked after a pause. "And what are you?"

Fox met his eyes. "I am Silvers Fox and I am a mother and an assassin, though I've done all manner of other things in the past as well."

Dragon's jaw actually dropped slightly. " _Silvers_ Fox?" he repeated.

"No, our father doesn't know," Fox answered the implied question, "and I'd prefer it remain that way. I like living, he can't keep a secret to save his life and Sengoku would probably try to kill me, which would get messy considering there are children involved and I have no intention of dying any time soon."

"Assassin?"

Fox shrugged. "I was raised and trained as one. I can't be anything else."

Dragon nodded, the unfocused look in his eyes suggesting deep thought. "Are you really married?" he asked next.

"Yes. I haven't heard a peep out of my husbands in over five years though." Fox didn't really care that she'd just as good as told her adopted brother that she'd been with a man who wasn't either of her husbands in the time since they'd been separated.

"Husbands?" Dragon looked slightly bemused.

"We're a trio."

"Ah." Another thoughtful pause. "So whose sons are your boys?"

"I think plausible deniability is your friend on that one," Fox warned him. "They are _my_ sons and I'd rather not have to kill my own brother for giving the game away, especially when he's got so many other more productive things he could be doing with his time rather than pry into my private life."

Dragon's lips curled up into a faint smile. "Very well little sister. Take care of my son for me."

"I know you won't be staying but _please_ write and at least _try_ to visit," Fox said as Dragon turned to leave. "There is a dire shortage of intelligent conversation around here and I'd like to get a more accurate account of what's going on in the world than what the newspaper reports."

Dragon turned. "You know?" he asked, startled.

Fox inclined her head. "I know and I don't care either way; you're a D so foolish idealism is par the course."

"Foolish?" Dragon sounded very displeased at having his dream called that, so Fox explained her word choice.

"It's a ridiculously big dream, don't you think? Just as unrealistic as Gol D. Roger's was."

Dragon caught the subtext and grinned. "Well if I am twice the fool my father is, little sister, then I may as well be twice as foolish." He vanished out the door and out of sight.

Fox sighed, shifting Luffy in her arms and burping him before he could fall asleep. "Well, you're not going to be my captain this time around," she told the drowsy infant quietly, "but as your mother I'm going to do my very best to ensure you still make it to your dream even without me by your side."

Luffy dropped off to sleep, a tiny bubble of snot emerging from his nose. Fox giggled and went looking for a cradle to tuck him into; at least she'd kept all the older boys' baby clothes…

* * *

Edited for grammer -thanks for pointing that out InsaneScriptist- 18.7.15


	2. Reunion

**Reunion**

Edward D. Spadille, who hadn't thought of himself as 'Portgas D. Ace' since his rebirth over twenty years previously, had been working with Fox and Zoro's son Falco on a political matter when his wife's run-in with giant monsters in the Florian Triangle suddenly leapt to his attention, making him swear in concert with Zoro, who was busy in his forge three islands over.

"What is it Papa?" Falco asked, golden eyes concerned and his ever-present smile wilting a little around the edges.

"Your mother's got herself into trouble," Spadille said shortly, skimming the letter in front of him with increased urgency.

"Go and help," Falco urged him. "I can hold the fort until you get back." He could too: twenty-four-year-old Roronoa Falco had earned a rather generous bounty and the nickname of 'the Dictator' for his skills and personal connections despite never having been caught breaking a single law.

"Right." The Yonko known and feared the world over as 'the Inferno' rose from his seat, grabbed his hat and dashed out the door of the office. "Falco's in charge until I get back!" he shouted as he ran past some of his crew on his way to the armoury. He had just grabbed his yari from its place on the wall when Fox was abruptly yanked away from his and Zoro's senses. Spadille reached after the feeling in a desperate attempt to flash to her side, but as he did so the world tilted and blackness swallowed him whole.

* * *

Spadille woke up, rolled over and spat out a mouthful of dirt and sand.

"Bleh!" He hadn't had a narcoleptic attack this severe in _years_ , not since before Mariposa was born. He did occasionally nod off standing up if he hadn't seen Fox in over a fortnight, but he'd genuinely believed toppling over on his face was a thing of the past.

Wait a minute; where was Zoro? Why couldn't he feel his prickly husband anymore? Where was he? This island looked vaguely familiar but he couldn't quite place it. Getting to his feet and turning around, Spadille eventually realised why: this was the island where he'd found his Devil Fruit back when he was still captain of the Spade Pirates. But Fox obviously wasn't here, so why had his attempt to take himself to her brought him-

He swayed, leaning heavily on his spear as his soul-deep connection to Fox went from mostly-closed to wide-open, battering him with a deluge of thoughts, feelings and swirling impressions.

 _!?_

He flashed to her side at once, lifting her off her feet and hugging her tightly as she sobbed into his neck and trembled in relief. The eight-foot-tall, massively built pirate patted his wife's hair soothingly as her memories and decisions over the past six and a half years fluttered past his conscious mind, filling him in on what had happened to them and what he had missed. He only had to seek clarification a few times, thoughts passing between them a hundred times faster than words could ever manage. Then he felt a twinge of pain in his shin and opened his eyes to look down at the small, dark-haired boy with a thunderous scowl who was glaring at him from about knee level.

"Ow," he said mildly. "What was that for?" Seeing himself as a child was slightly disconcerting and he found himself rather envious of this reality's Portgas D. Ace for having a mother as loving and capable as Fox to raise him. The brat had no idea how good he had it: Being raised by the Dadan Family had been an experience and in retrospect not a very good one. It had lacked far too much to be considered even halfway decent and had left him ill-prepared for any occupation that required more than brute strength and the willingness to use it on others. Piracy had been his only option, since he had lacked even the discipline required for being a Marine, regardless of his heritage.

"You made Mummy cry!" Ace shouted angrily, raising clenched fists. "I hate you!"

Behind Ace a boy the same age with messily spiked red hair was watching Spadille narrowly with black eyes the exact same shape as his mother's and keeping a good grip on a squirming one-year-old Luffy. That had to be Blaze, who looked like he was torn between assisting Ace in his assault and protecting his baby brother from the very tall armed stranger who was holding their mother hostage. Spadille was going to have to tease his wife later for succumbing to the wiles of this world's Shanks, not to mention robbing the cradle. Red-Hair had only been fifteen when Roger was executed!

"I'm alright Ace," Fox said, turning slightly and wiping her eyes. "These are happy tears."

Ace looked confused, but did back down slightly. "Happy tears?" he asked sharply.

"I didn't think I'd ever see Spadille here ever again, so I was so happy when he showed up my emotions went wonky," Fox said, sliding out of her husband's grasp to the ground. Spadille let her; they'd have plenty of time to catch up properly once the boys were asleep.

"Boys, this is my husband Spadille." No surname mentioned, the pirate noticed. "Spadille, these are Ace, Blaze and Luffy, my sons."

Spadille flicked the brim of his top hat. "Pleased to meet you boys and thank-you for looking after your mother while I wasn't here." It was very, very strange to see what he might have been like as a child if he'd had a loving mother to dote on him and raise him as a human being rather than a feral savage. This version of his former self was much more secure and grounded, not to mention had a much better grasp of his temper. Early combat training too, the lucky brat: that had been a Fishman Karate stance earlier with a bit of Black-Leg's kicking style mixed in.

Ace swelled with pride and Blaze looked much more at ease, letting go of Luffy so the toddler could charge unsteadily into Fox's knees and beg for a hug.

"Are you our dad?" Blaze asked hopefully.

Good question, as it depended on a person's interpretation of the word 'father'. "Would you like me to be?" he asked.

The two boys looked at each-other; Spadille was frequently reminded that four-year-olds were much smarter than most people gave them credit for. Unless they were Luffy, that is. Luffy might have become Pirate King but he wasn't exactly the most intelligent guy around for all that he had his own kind of wisdom.

"You're Mummy's husband and you like us," Ace said bluntly. "I'd like you to be my dad." He paused. "Do I only get one dad?"

"You can have as many or as few as you like, sweetie," Fox said as she lifted Luffy onto her hip. "Garp is my father but I do have another one as well."

"Okay, you can be our dad then," Ace decided. "Are you a pirate?"

Spadille smirked at the kid, who was just different enough to how he remembered being to not give him too many headaches. "What do you think?"

"Pirate," Blaze confirmed. "You dress like one and you've got a cool weapon." Blaze was much more sedate than Shanks, Spadille decided, in spite of the pronounced physical resemblance. Only the shape of his eyes and the untidiness of his hair hinted at his being Dracule Mihawk's grandson, which was almost the complete opposite of Falco who appearance-wise could have been the retired swordsman's slightly shorter double rather than his grandson.

"Is that going to be a problem?"

Ace grinned fiercely. "Pirates are way better than Marines!"

"Pawa! Pawa!" Luffy babbled happily.

Spadille grinned. Yeah, this might be fun.

* * *

Spadille stayed in Fuusha for three months, spending the days bonding with his new sons and the evenings in bed with his wife or plotting their campaign. Fox had promised this world's Rouge and Dragon that she would raise their sons, so she wouldn't be leaving Dawn Island permanently until Luffy was seventeen. That meant they had nearly sixteen years in which to wait for Zoro to show up and try to modify things so that this world's Ace didn't end up getting killed at Marineford before he was twenty-one. Spadille had already decided that meant getting Sakazuki out of the way in as permanent a manner as possible without killing him; the bastard _deserved_ a fate worse than death and his being alive would prevent the Marine authorities from handing the Magma Fruit on to somebody else. Mostly because they'd have to kill him to pass the fruit on and even crippled the mad dog would put up enough of a fight for it not to be worth the trouble. Not to mention all the political clout he obviously had to even have a chance of reaching the rank of Admiral that would still be there to protect him for a while. The Marines were generally opposed to killing their own high-ranking officers and they did have a constant and legal supply of pain medication available, which would afford Sakazuki somewhat comfortable misery. Spadille didn't exactly plan on leaving the man to rot either: dropping by with get-well-soon gifts and flowers would aggravate the cripple beyond reason. It would be exquisite to watch and the man's agony would be delicious.

Fox had persuaded him to wait until the man reached the rank of Admiral, as that way he would instantly get a high bounty. It also gave Spadille time to recruit a strong crew, get a good ship built and expand the tentative cobweb of contacts she was gradually spinning across the Blues and the Grand Line. The Sea Network had made a great many things much less of a hassle than they could have been so recreating it as far as was possible was a smart idea. Spadille being able to move quickly between islands without a ship gave him an edge that would be very useful for taking advantage of the black and grey market, as would his relatively recent mastery of the Colour of Concealment.

Of course, the trick would be staying out of sight of the World Government until he was ready, but he knew how to dress discreetly. He just preferred not to and being a feared Yonko had made attempting to disguise himself fairly futile. Now however he was a complete unknown, which came with both advantages and disadvantages. He'd probably be better off sticking to the Blues for a bit and only touching on the Grand Line in between; he'd been thinking hard on who he wanted for his crew and knew where –and when– to find a some good men –and the odd woman– who hadn't really got started on their careers yet. A few of them had been his brothers on his Pop's crew, but the rest were people whose loyalty had been snatched up by other lucky bastards or who he had met later in life.

Which reminded him: he wasn't going to let Sabo vanish off the face of the earth this time even if it meant burning that Tenryuubito and his ship to ash. He'd just have to do so discreetly when and if it proved necessary. Arson could be practical and was as east as breathing when a person was made of fire.

Spadille shook his head to banish those dark thoughts; that was years away and Sabo hadn't even run away from home yet. He'd had fun with Blaze and Ace in the past three months, taking them hunting in the forests of Mount Colubo –which had led to a few discreet bandit hunts in the evenings– fishing in the sea –he'd had to use Haoshoku Haki to scare off the Lord of the Coast which had cemented him in Ace's mind as the coolest father _ever_ – and sparring with them until they keeled over. Blaze was learning a variation of his mother's assassin combat style which he certainly had the reflexes for and Ace was learning both Fishman Karate and a mixture of Zoro's hand-to-hand and Black-Leg's kicking style that the two men had put together for Spadille's firstborn, who really wasn't suited to swords at all. It was a style Spadille was comfortable with if not exactly an expert in, so he corrected Ace's mistakes, knocked him over when he didn't get into his stances properly and generally demonstrated how much more skilled he was than either of the boys without even trying.

Blaze he could correct and critique, but he couldn't actually fight that way as he didn't have the right body type for it. Spadille was a power-type who knew a bit about speed; Fox was a speed type who had built up power over time. In a real fight Fox would beat him simply because her speed kept him from hitting her and she could bypass his strengths with her superior grasp of haki. Blaze would have the body of a power type when he was older but right now he had agility and speed, so cultivating those meant Blaze would eventually get the best out of both worlds by the time he was old enough to leave home. Ace on the other hand was all power, so Fox was teaching him variety, versatility and –if he ever got the hang of Fishman Karate– range.

When Spadille eventually departed Dawn Island in order to get his plan in motion he left behind three hero-worshipping sons, a pregnant wife and a village full of people convinced he was Ace and Blaze' biological father. That he and Ace shared a definite resemblance to their mother only convinced people further.

* * *

After both Blaze and Ace had turned five and Fox's pregnancy was in its last trimester she started teaching the older boys about haki. This began with an overview of the various types –Fox had mastered and named five beyond the usual three and was still expanding her knowledge– and a promise to teach them all about them as soon as they could prove to her they could access it. Then when they were all fired up she taught them the basic exercises for accessing Kenbunshoku and Busoshoku haki and encouraged them not to get disheartened as it had taken her over two years to be able to use them consistently. She also banned the boys from exploring the forest by themselves, promising instead that once they could use haki properly the ban would be lifted. This ensured compliance and the two five-year-olds spent their afternoons running around the village and nearby fields, playing at being explorers and pirates and native warriors.

Mornings for the two older boys were spent around the house, either helping with various chores or learning to read, write and do various sums and other important things. Fox made the lessons interesting by teaching them to read out of books about the Grand Line, maths with her old lists of supplies needed on board ship, their value and how long they lasted and other subjects like botany, geography, history and chemistry out of copies of her Log Books. She'd had to do some careful editing to remove the last few decades' worth of events but most of the information was good. The chores were part of their education, teaching the boys to cook, sew, mend, clean up after themselves and all the other little things necessary for independent living. She also taught them 'fun' things like drawing –maps, landscapes, animals and people- and different types of knots. During lessons Luffy generally sat in the same room playing with his toys, running around and generally being a nuisance, but Fox remained serene in spite of it and Ace slowly learned to keep his temper, let the flow of incoherent toddler-babble wash over him and not push too hard when Luffy latched onto him and demanded that he play.

After her baby was born –an adorable little girl Spadille promptly named Orchis– the family dynamic changed very abruptly. Luffy was entranced by his baby sister but confused and distressed about the abrupt reduction in attention he got from Fox. The assassin's response to this was to get out of the house more so that Luffy could get attention from other adults, mostly Makino who had recently inherited Party's Bar and didn't mind chatting to Fox over the counter or playing with Luffy when business was slow.

Ace and Blaze were used to sharing, but having a little _sister_ was a new and wonderful experience and both were keen to help out whenever possible. They were old enough and observant enough to notice that their mother was working very hard to look after them all and genuinely wanted to help. Fox took advantage by giving them more chores, praising them lavishly when they succeeded and critiquing them gently when they missed bits. She also encouraged them to work on their haki exercises and promised to teach them a weapon once they were better at unarmed combat. This kept them busy and out from underfoot all afternoon, enabling her to get a nap alongside Luffy and Orchis.

Orchis was born with deep blue hair, but as the months passed her hair reddened and turned a beautifully rich shade of violet that her eyes gradually came to match. As she grew it became clear she was going to look a lot like Rouge when she was older: Orchis had exactly the same face shape Ace did at the same age. Her hair however was much better behaved than Blaze's spiky locks, which he was growing out in an attempt to tame; it would probably be a year before that actually started working.

* * *

Blaze managed to find his Observation Haki shortly before his sixth birthday, which led to him getting private lessons Ace was deeply envious of. This envy spurred him on and he finally managed to call up Armament Haki shortly after he too turned six. Both boys knew by now they were not really twins and got separate parties at home, but they liked having an 'official' birthday as it meant they got more presents. They were also at an age where they enjoyed having secrets and knew how to keep them, so Fox wasn't worried about the truth getting out. Most of the village still believed Ace was the older 'twin' because he was the one who decided what to do and even Ace himself had been a bit miffed to find out his 'little brother' was actually four months older than he was. Blaze however didn't mind at all and was happy to let Ace be in charge, grinning with cheerful determination as he charged after his younger brother into whatever scrape it was this week.

Once both boys were training with haki Fox stepped up their other physical lessons to include weapons training in the early afternoons, followed by teaching them to use their haki on demand. The latter lesson involved a great deal of physical violence on her part and a lot of bruises for the boys as they tried to fend off her hands, feet and hair. By the end of the first week Ace and Blaze declared her hair to be the most evil hair in existence and that it was out to get them; that she had over five metres of it and could wield it as precisely as her arms and legs in combat made their loathing understandable. However by the time Orchis was two and a half and Blaze was eight the two older boys were good enough with both the two basic kinds of haki and their favoured weapons that she felt comfortable lifting the ban to explore the forest by themselves. She'd taught then the basics of woodcraft while taking them hunting or foraging with her, so she wasn't too worried when her news was greeted with a whoop and four completely Ace and Blaze free days: they'd be back soon enough.

* * *

The year Blaze and Ace were eight and Luffy turned five marked the beginning of Luffy's education. This was a challenge Fox had spent some time preparing for: she'd been teaching him fighting stances, tumbling and other gymnastics since he was two as he was a very kinaesthetic learner and picked physical things up quickly. He was a very nimble climber, had taught himself how to move across roofs and could move through trees like a monkey. However that didn't mean he got out of his lessons or that Fox wasn't going to do her best to teach him strategies to work around his utter inability to recognise peoples' faces, a problem she knew about from serving the second Pirate King as his Assassin.

Teaching Luffy to read and write was difficult only because of his short attention span: all Fox had to do to motivate him was tell him what the books on her shelves contained and that she was too busy to read them all to him. Luffy knew most of his bedtime stories by heart, so she got him started with those as he had no problems connecting the words to the symbols. Teaching him to write was far more of a challenge, but within a few months his calligraphy was tidy enough to work with.

Maths was much harder: Luffy just wasn't a logical person. She eventually defaulted to money, which he at least understood the importance of and was prepared to learn sums with. He already knew how to count and do basic addition and subtraction just from sitting in on his older brothers' lessons.

Geography was something Luffy was keen on to the point of memorising her maps and what each island was like; he devoured those lessons and despite his recollections being generally slightly more colourful than the reality Fox had no complaints. Biology she phrased as 'what is edible and what isn't' which as Luffy was utterly obsessed with food worked very well. He actually remembered the names of plants and animals and brought things home that he wanted her to identify for him, including any number of bugs. Fox had infinite patience for that kind of thing; all the people she loved were obsessive in one way or another. She also warned him against mushrooms generally: they were hard to identify and she had never forgotten her Captain telling her about nearly being eaten by one on Amazon Lily.

While Luffy was not a particularly good student Ace and Blaze had reached the point they were continuing their education semi-independently: they borrowed the various fact books and instruction manuals she had accumulated –a large number of them bought or stolen from High Town over in Goa City – tried out the things in them for themselves and only really hung around the house for haki training, fighting lessons, meals and to play with Orchis. Neither boy would ever hesitate to come to her for help if they needed it, so Fox let her older sons run wild while she concentrated on her younger children. She didn't let them run _too_ wild though: she'd made it clear she expected them to at the very least not get caught even if they couldn't avoid trouble, to mind their manners and to tell her the new things they'd learnt whenever they sat down to dinner. This promoted a varied education that was a bit spotty here and there, but she intended to get them to knuckle down properly once they were older and had a longer attention span. For now learning about the reality of the world around them was education enough.

Orchis at three was just as much of a challenge as Luffy was at five: she was much brighter than her brother was and already learning to read. She adored all three her older brothers but loved Luffy in particular, who had grown out of his dislike of his baby sister years ago and now treated her like a princess. Anything Orchis wanted, Luffy would get for her. Involving Orchis in lessons got him to pay more attention so he could explain things to her. She also loved his rather abstract drawings and watching his occasionally laughable attempts at helping with the chores. Luffy would never be a chef, but he wouldn't starve. He could clean a room, though he preferred not to. He could also wash dishes –provided somebody was watching him– and was actually very good at shopping and managing his funds. Fox put this down to his food focus. By the time he was six she let him take Orchis –now four– out shopping with him.

Not long after Luffy turned six, a pirate ship docked at Fuusha village.

* * *

Spadille had decided that the best place to start working on Fox' contacts was as far away from her own range as was possible, to get them out of the way. That meant West Blue, so he'd set off east, travelled down the Red Line and past Reverse Mountain then set off island hopping. He had all of Fox's maps of the Blues memorised so he knew how to get around without finding himself having to fly for a week straight over open water, which was almost a death sentence. Death by stupidity; Fox would never let him live it down. Her maps included Ohara, which despite having been burnt to the ground about four years previously was still physically there. He also wanted to visit Shanks' home island –their sake was to _die_ for– Ilusia, Las Camp and a few other places.

He'd been bouncing around under a few different names in various disguises and steadily accumulating contacts and funds for about six months when he picked up his first crew member. He hadn't done so on purpose, but sensing a thirteen-year-old Nico Robin fleeing from Marines in the middle of the night had set off his protective streak.

* * *

Nico Robin was running for her life again. Every time it happened it killed her inside a little more; she was only trying to stay alive but the past four-and-a-half years had been one betrayal after another and this time she had defended herself from a would-be attacker who had then reported her to the Marines. What was the world coming to that _she_ was being chased while the man who assaulted her was considered an upstanding citizen?

She dashed around a corner, down an alley and had just emerged from the other side when a large hand snatched her up by the collar and another firmly covered her mouth. Robin instantly tried to wiggle free or bite, but her captor was unmoveable. She was about to try using her Devil Fruit when the Marines burst out of the alley and she froze.

"Shh," a deep, soft voice murmured above her head. "Calm down kid. They can't see us."

Her captor was right, Robin realised: the Marines couldn't see them although they were standing mere feet away. The patrol looked both ways and then spit up, calling for reinforcements through their den-den mushi and shouting about how the fugitive –her– had escaped.

The hand over her mouth dropped and Robin found herself shuffled over to sit on the hip of a very large dark-skinned man with curly black hair tied back at the nape of his neck wearing a white shirt that seemed to glow in the darkness, green trousers that ended just below his ankles and slightly tatty sandals. She couldn't see his eyes as he was wearing sunglasses, but some small part of her hoped he hadn't saved her just so as to turn her in himself.

"You know, if you want them to stop chasing you, Nico Robin, you really need to make more of an effort to change your appearance," the man told her with a grin. "Not trying to hide is like daring them to catch you."

Robin was utterly stunned: she'd never considered disguising herself before. Which was just stupid of her: thinking about it logically, a disguise would make her look different to her bounty poster which in turn would prevent people from trying to turn her in.

"Tell you what Albatross-chan," her rescuer went on, "I'll show you how it's done. A gift from one wanderer to another, ne? Then you can make a proper decision about what you want to do with yourself. Being on the run wears a person down to the bone."

Robin let herself be carried off by the large, dark man with the gentle voice that was redolent with wry humour and parental kindness. She knew it was stupid of her to hope, but sometimes she just couldn't help herself. Saul's last words to her –to find nakama– were inescapable even though her every attempt had brought her pain.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later Robin was having a thorough scrub in a small, cramped bathroom and a woman who was probably a prostitute was washing her hair for her vigorously. The big man had brought her to a brothel, which had initially frightened her, but he had just hired one of the girls to give her a proper wash and then slather some kind of paste over every inch of her skin except the bottoms of her feet and the palms of her hands. Robin would then have to stand still for half an hour while the paste dried, then she would have to not move much until morning, when she could wash the paste off. The goo had a strong eucalyptus smell with a hint of black tea, but the woman assisting her confirmed it was harmless. It was apparently a kind of dye that would tint her skin a dark reddish brown and the eucalyptus oil in the dye made the colour stronger. The Ohara survivor stood still as she was dried off completely and her hair was bundled up in a towel, then did her best not to squirm as thick, warm paste was painted over every last inch of her skin, even the bits that clothing always covered. Hopefully it wouldn't take quite as long as half an hour to dry once the work was finished; standing still for that long would be challenging.

Once Robin was fully painted the woman went away, leaving the thirteen-year-old naked and alone in the bathroom to worry. The Ohara survivor desperately hoped this wasn't all a ruse or some elaborate setup, as she was now in an even more perilous position than she had been earlier. Her Devil Fruit could only do so much against somebody as obviously strong as the man who had brought her here.

She jumped as someone knocked on the bathroom door.

"Albatross-chan?" it was him. What did he want?

"Y-yes?"

"I'm going to sit here with my back to the door, okay? I've hired the room for the night so we shouldn't get any visitors unless one of the girls needs to hide from a customer. Rhodi is the only one who knows you're here and she owes me so she'll keep her mouth shut. Do you want a book to read in there?"

Robin considered the offer. It seemed genuine. "What sort of book?"

"It's about the history of the sky islands."

There were islands in the sky? "What's your name?"

There was a pause and a chuckle. "I'm Edward D. Spadille, Albatross-chan. Don't tell anybody though; I'd get into trouble. I was born to the wrong parents for me to ever have a quiet life. People here know me as Kuwa, so use it."

Kuwa meant spade. A pun? A spadille was the ace of spades in a deck of cards.

"I'd like that book, please?"

The door opened a crack and the book was shoved through. Robin grabbed it before it hit the wet floor and pulled the door shut again. It was very warm and damp in the bathroom, which would be bad for the book, but he wouldn't have offered it to her if he had minded it getting wet. She sat cross-legged on a towel and opened the slightly battered volume to the first page.

* * *

When morning eventually came around Robin was finally permitted to scrape the dried paint off her skin and have a hot shower to get rid of the dust. Looking at herself in the mirror when it finally demisted gave her a shock: she was dark, rich brown all over, making her look totally different. The change was unbelievable.

"Are you all right in there, Albatross-chan?" Spadille asked through the door. Robin quickly wrapped herself in a towel and opened it. The massive man blinked down at her, then smiled.

"Well, what an amazing change! Here," he gave her a bundle, "clothes to match your new look. There's food on the bedside table but don't leave the room; I can't hide you if you go looking for trouble." With that he stepped past her into the bathroom and shut the door behind him.

Robin glanced at the food, then at the clothes. Clothes first.

Her outfit wasn't too different from her rescuer's own: a white, long-sleeved shirt, brown trousers and calf boots in sturdy leather. There was also a vibrant green waistcoat, a pair of orange-tinted sunglasses, a yellow sash and a dozen green and orange hair clips. Robin had put on everything except the hair clips and had almost finished the food when Spadille wandered out of the shower wearing just a towel and then got dressed as though he was the only person in the room. Blushing profusely the thirteen-year-old turned her back on him, remembering as she did so the various biology books she'd read in the Library on Ohara. Seeing that kind of thing in person was _nothing_ like reading about it.

"Hey, Albatross-chan." Robin didn't turn around. "Hey, I'm dressed now I promise!" Spadille teased. "Get over here so I can do your hair."

Robin turned and saw that her rescuer's hair was much less curly than it had been the day before.

"No, this isn't how I really look either," he confirmed. "Rhodi lent me her rollers so I could do my own hair, but I think I'll do yours first."

Doing her hair involved wetting it again, tightly coiling it up in sections around pins and tying up the nubs in paper. Spadille then repeated the process on his own head and beckoned her closer.

"Normally we'd have to leave them in overnight, but I have a cheat," he informed her with a conspiratorial smile. "Close your eyes." He carefully cupped his hands around her hair and Robin suddenly felt her head getting hot. Not burningly hot, but definitely as hot as the middle of summer where there wasn't any shade. She could feel her scalp heating up and her hair drying.

Spadille had to be a Devil Fruit User like her to be able to do that.

When her hair was completely dry she had to remove all the paper and uncoil the little nubs from the pins, but when she was finished her head was covered in tight curls that made her hair look shorter and totally different. Spadille, now looking much more like he had the previous night, helped her put the hair clips in place to hold various bits of fringe out of her face then pinned her bounty poster up next to the mirror and had her compare herself.

The bronze-skinned, curly-headed child in orange sunglasses looked nothing like the pale little girl in the picture.

"Much better!" Spadille told her, ruffling her curls. "Now you can do whatever you like and go wherever you want."

Robin hesitated. "Can I come with you?" she blurted out.

Spadille looked down at her thoughtfully. "Well, you could," he conceded, "but I doubt you'd find it very comfortable. I don't even have a boat yet."

"I'd like to stay with you," Robin whispered ashamedly. He had been kind to her and was willing to just let her go on her way afterwards. She didn't really care what he made her do as long as he let her stay.

Spadille shrugged "With me it is then. Come on, Alba-chan." He held out a hand.

Robin took it.

* * *

Robin learnt a lot in her first few months with Spadille, who always called her 'Alba-chan' or 'Albatross' rather than her given name. Most of what she'd learnt was practical: how to hide, how to lie properly, how to look innocent when you had actually done something illegal, how to cook, how to read maps, how to navigate –which was much more complicated than she'd initially thought– how to use other people preconceptions against them and how to apply and remove different types of disguise. She'd also read two dozen different books about different places all over the world and determined that her captain –as she considered Spadille to be– was setting up some kind of network for information and smuggling. Not the smuggling of illegal items, but of things that were rare, valuable or just subject to high levels of taxation on certain islands. Robin was generally required to stay out of the way for that part, but either before or afterwards Spadille would take her around the island to look at things that interested her, go shopping or just wander. She was allowed to do as she pleased so long as she didn't use her Devil Fruit and it was nice to get to be a normal girl.

Spadille was also teaching her to fight, as he said that a person who was wanted by the World Government needed the strength and skill to preserve their own freedom. Mostly he was teaching her gymnastics and making her run so she could escape better, but he had recently started her on the basics of a fighting style that targeted the body's weak points. Learning was hard, but Robin was determined to do well. She didn't want Spadille to get rid of her.

After Robin had been with Spadille for six months he took her out of West Blue altogether and into South Blue. He also changed their disguises: Robin's hair was cut shorter, dyed blue and her fringe clipped back to one side to show her forehead. Her skin was only lightly dyed –it had faded some over time– resembling a heavy tan and Spadille bought her a pair of spectacles with large circular lenses that completely changed how her face looked. Standing next to Spadille, who wasn't wearing any disguise at all, she looked like his little sister or his daughter.

"The story here is that you are my daughter and that your mother and little sister were killed during the purges," Spadille told her quietly. "We will be doing business with a number of more wanted and dangerous people than we were in West Blue. Your bounty is far from the highest in the world: on the Grand Line you would not be considered all that special. However I'd much rather you weren't recognised, so keep your practice with your Ability to the times when I tell you we are definitely alone." He sighed. "I think I'll have to buy a ship soon; I'm running out of sea chests to store things in."

Robin was utterly fascinated by Spadille's sea chests. He would make them himself on long stops, buying wood and nails and steel reinforcement then spending a day sawing, drilling, sanding and assembling. Then he would take it away and come back the next day with a sea chest that was now able to turn into an animal, generally a bird or a fish. The sea chests would then follow them as Spadille carried her from island to island, flying using his Devil Fruit which involved fire in some way. It was like something out of a story. She actually had a sea chest of her own: Spadille had made it for her a month after she joined him. She still had no idea how he'd got hold of a bananadile though… or why it made him chuckle all the time either.

* * *

Taking care of a teenage girl while assembling an information and trade network was hard. Fortunately Spadille had an ever-present source of female advice in Fox, who had known Robin reasonably well in their own world and had been immensely helpful in deciphering the little Albatross for him. With that basic foundation established, Spadille mostly treated her like he had his own daughters, making sure she was fed, clothed, capable of defending herself, capable of getting herself out of minor to moderate trouble and above all making sure she knew he cared. That last one was the tricky part: teenage Robin had terrible self-esteem issues. Fox assured him he'd get there eventually and to make sure he never, ever said anything that might make her think he wanted to get rid of her. He'd raided a few Marine bases while they were in West Blue in order to find out more about what had happened at Ohara but there hadn't been anything relevant. Lots of other useful stuff –Fox was right to recommend on principle that he raid the inventory of confiscated goods– but nothing on Ohara. He'd have to go to Marineford and trawl their archive. Before he could do that however he needed crew he trusted to keep his Albatross safe, which meant he also needed a boat. Not the boat he eventually intended to use on the Grand Line –he had a plan for that one– but a decent-sized boat to get him around South Blue for a year. Fox wanted him to check out a few things while he was here and he knew that Doma should be starting his pirate career around about now.

The 'Bohemian Knight' Doma that Spadille remembered had been a decent guy and very honourable; Ace had defeated him and his crew aged eighteen, not many months after taking Whitebeard's mark, which had led to them becoming his Pops' allies and Ace becoming Second Division Commander. Spadille intended to recruit the man to his own cause if possible and if not gain a trustworthy ally. Doma was also one of the few people Spadille felt he could safely leave Robin with if he needed to do solo work because Doma didn't break his promises. Ever. If Spadille could get Doma to promise to take care of the little albatross while he broke into the Marine Headquarters then Doma would protect the teenager come hell or high water.

There was also a chance that Doma might already have a ship, which would save him a lot of money and hassle.

* * *

Despite actively looking for Doma, the next familiar face Spadille encountered belonged to Inazuma. The Flame Logia had been discreetly relieving the local nobility of a large portion of their recent income late one night when he sensed somebody vaguely familiar and heavily injured staggering down an alleyway a few blocks over. Curious, Spadille heaved his rucksack onto his back and went to see who it was.

Some of the people he'd encountered who felt familiar were still children while others were busy doing the jobs they'd had before tragedy sent them down the road to piracy. Not many people had piracy as their first choice of employment; Luffy was 'special' that way. Spadille himself was only a pirate because he didn't think he'd be left in peace if he tried anything else and being raised by bandits hadn't given him many useful skills to fall back on other than fighting. Well he could have been a Marine, but Spadille had never really been interested.

Then he'd reached a corner, seen a bloody, battered man with messy orange hair swaying as he leant against a building and at that moment the Marine base about a mile away roared into life like a hive of angry bees. Spadille decided to grab the man and leg it; he could always kill the probable prison escapee later. It was only when he got close enough to see the guy's face that he realised it was Inazuma. A very young Inazuma whose lightning-bolt scar across his eye was a fresh and bleeding wound. The possible revolutionary's response to Spadille's approach was to turn the hand not holding him up into a pair of scissors and brandishing them threateningly.

Fox supplied him with a possible password through their soul-based connection: "The flight of the dragon brings the rains."

Inazuma didn't seem to recognise the password, but he did pass out which was almost as good. Spadille caught him before he hit the ground, slung him over one shoulder and legged it out of town under Concealment Haki. He and Albatross were holed up in a cave overlooking a sheltered cove right now and he needed to get Inazuma somewhere relatively safe. As he did so Fox mused quietly about what had happened to Inazuma in their world that she knew of and how things had turned out. Considering the man hanging over his shoulder had uniformly orange hair, Spadille might well have spared Ivankov's future right-hand okama the experience which had turned half of it prematurely white.

Inazuma woke up again while Spadille was in the process of stitching him back together. The flame Logia wasn't much of a medic, but he did know how to sew people back together again and sterilize wounds properly.

"I'm putting you back together right now," the larger man said as his patient stirred and opened his eyes, "so can you hold off trying to kill me until I've finished? I'd rather you didn't ruin my hard work."

"Who?" Inazuma croaked.

"Nobody you know," Spadille said shortly. "I don't know why you were messed up like that and I don't care; something tells me plausible deniability is my friend on this one. Albatross, get me some more suture thread will you?"

When the teenager was out of earshot Spadille tried a different tactic. "Do you know Emporio Ivankov?"

Inazuma was a good liar, but haki was a highly versatile tool and being injured didn't help him. Spadille could practically see Inazuma's thoughts as they paraded through his mind while he groped for an appropriate response and had his question answered before the revolutionary even opened his mouth. "The Okama king?" the man asked, coughing.

"Mmm hmm," Spadille hummed cheerfully. "I thought so. Don't worry; my wife's a friend of a friend and I've got enough on my plate without playing in your sandbox. My lips are sealed. Anything interesting going on around here of late?"

Inazuma blinked silently as Albatross returned with the thread and said nothing more while Spadille continued his mending job. He didn't try to fight back either though, which was good. Sewing was not Spadille's best domestic skill and it was hard enough dealing with tough muscle and slippery skin without the patient trying to get you to stop.

"There," Spadille said in satisfaction as he tied off the last end; "hopefully those won't scar too badly. Albatross, I'm going to wash. You keep an eye on our patient please."

* * *

Three weeks later Spadille had bought a reasonably sized and sturdy ship and Inazuma was still with them. He didn't talk much and his presence clearly unsettled the little Albatross, but Spadille didn't want to tell him to leave. Inazuma was a revolutionary to the core but he was also a reliable subordinate and highly intelligent. The flame Logia had never known what had made the quiet, dependable Paramecia into such a zealous revolutionary, but whatever it was had clearly happened not too long ago as Spadille could sense that the burning rage within the injured man that had not yet been fully sublimated into the single-minded drive for liberty.

When Spadille led the way down to where he'd anchored the ship and Albatross got on board followed by the sea chests, the Logia turned to look at the orange-haired man hesitating on the shore behind him:

"Look, I don't care what your name is or what those Marines were after you for so long as you don't personally act against me or Albatross. I've got to call you something though, so I'm calling you Inazuma." He didn't even know if that was the man's real name, come to think of it. It was easier than people realised to go for several weeks without using names when it was just a small group of people in close contact.

"Inazuma?" the Paramecia repeated, eyes slightly startled behind the sunglasses Albatross had given him.

"Your new facial scar looks like a lightning bolt," Spadille said bluntly. "Rules on board ship are simple: I'm the captain so what I say goes; no deliberate harm to other members of the crew; you want to get off, you ask me first. Deal?"

"Yes, captain," Inazuma said.

"Then welcome on board."

Spadille never actually found Doma, but five months after picking up Inazuma the revolutionary was still with them and Albatross had settled enough to be comfortable with Spadille leaving them alone for a week while the ship was anchored at a small deserted island on the edge on the Calm Belt near the Red Line so the Logia could break into Marineford.

* * *

Getting into the Marine Headquarters on Marineford was actually very easy: Spadille flew there hidden under Concealment Haki, landed in the square then walked around the back of the building towards the stores, where uniforms of all sizes were kept. The way Concealment Haki worked meant it was easier to pass beneath notice if you looked like you belonged. It was key to all non-haki based infiltration anyway and made it easier for someone like him who was less than perfect at Concealment, which in a place like Marineford meant wearing a Marine uniform. Spadille wasn't as good as Fox, who could have walked in here dressed in pirate garb dripping blood with a drawn sword and not been remarked upon, but he was good enough that so long as his uniform fitted nobody would look twice at him. Most people wouldn't even look once.

Getting a uniform that fitted was pretty easy, as unlike the outlying bases in the Blues he'd been raiding lately Headquarters had all the sizes. Once outfitted as a Seaman First Class –dressing as a Petty Officer or higher would require more background information he didn't have yet– Spadille entered the main building at the calm, unhurried pace of someone with a job to do and set out to find the mission report archive. It would probably be underground or on the lower floors at least as it would take up a lot of space. The Marines bustling around him only noticed him enough to avoid walking into him, which was exactly what he'd been hoping for. He had plenty of time to get his research mission completed and he'd likely have time to eat in the mess hall afterwards. Free food was nothing to be sniffed at.

The mission archives were indeed where he thought they'd be; Spadille walked right past the guards outside and the archivist on duty under a briefly heavier veil of Concealment then lifted it once he was inside. The advantage of official procedures was that once you were in a secured area people assumed you had permission to be there. Finding the right reports would be tricky, but Fox knew how the filing system worked –she'd been paying attention to more than just gossip when she visited back in their world when she'd been a Pose Artificer– and he knew the dates and the officers he wanted details of.

The joy of bureaucracy was that the Marines needed reports of everything, from everyone, and that copies of these reports had to be kept somewhere, just in case. This meant that a person could wander into the main archives and –so long as they understood the system– filch the reports of every last mission a particular officer had ever taken and the reports by that officer's superior officers concerning their behaviour. Spadille was here for several reasons. Firstly, he wanted dirt on Sakazuki, the more the better. Secondly, he wanted the details of the Ohara Incident. Thirdly, he wanted to know who had given the orders for Baterilla and who the officers in charge of the purges had been. Fourthly, if he had time, Fox had given him a laundry list of information Dragon would willingly owe them significant favours for. Fox didn't believe in family discounts –something that was a Silvers family trait– but she was willing to trade in favours rather than money as favours could be infinitely more valuable.

All in all that amounted to a lot of paper, but Spadille could use Fox' teleportation trick to send her stuff as well as to flash to her side. Sure, the attic in Garp's house in Fuusha would look highly incriminating for about a week, but Fox would send it all back once he was on the Will O' Wisp again. 'Will O' Wisp' was what he'd named the pretty little ship he'd bought after Inazuma joined him and Albatross.

Setting his shoulders and bringing the coding system to the forefront of his mind, Spadille set to work.

* * *

It actually took him five days to raid the archive. Five days of eating in the mess hall, sleeping in the bunk house and using the communal showers without ever letting up his Concealment Haki. By the end of the week he was noticeably better at getting people to overlook him but he was also feeling bored and irritable after so much tedious and meticulous secrecy. Yes, he'd probably just pulled off the single greatest act of espionage against the Marines in the history of the world but damn it had been dull. So after eating lunch in the mess hall for the last time Spadille headed off towards where his memory told him the Vice-Admirals' offices were. He'd kinda missed his Shitty Gramps and Garp was Garp wherever –and whenever– he was. Plus this way he could mess with the old man's head a bit and introduce himself while he was at it.

It wasn't until he was on the right floor that he remembered that Borsalino, Kuzan and Sakazuki were also Vice-Admirals right now. Sakazuki he intended to avoid on principle or else he'd probably kill the man prematurely and Borsalino was too apathetic to be interesting, but Kuzan had promise. Kuzan actually had morals and occasionally heeded them. Tsuru would be here too somewhere, but she was way too old and canny to mess with and her Devil Fruit was humiliating and absolutely _evil_. Pirates were not laundry!

As he ambled down the corridor looking for Garp's office he sensed familiar 'voices' through his Observation Haki and his lips curled up into a grin. Oh yes, this was going to be _fun_.

* * *

Ensign Hina paced along the corridor towards Vice-Admiral Kuzan's office beside her fellow Marine, Warrant Officer Smoker, who was smoking those wretched cigars again. Hina couldn't understand why he liked them, but at least he hadn't picked a fight with any of the other petty officers today. Why he bothered Hina had no idea; it wasn't like beating them into the ground would make them any more morally upright. Smoker was such an idealist at times.

"Hina does not understand why Smoker-kun antagonises his fellow officers," she said conversationally as she lit a new cigarette. "It does not change their opinions or views in the slightest."

Smoker growled quietly, but did not contradict her. Probably because he knew she was right. Hina recognised that Smoker was a rare breed, a truly moral man who had joined the Marines to ensure true justice was done to the guilty and to protect the innocent. She hoped his superiors would recognise his better qualities and promote him in spite of his occasionally blatantly insubordinate behaviour, but she wasn't holding her breath. Then again, Kuzan had served under Monkey D. Garp before his promotion and the Hero of the Marines was universally recognised as being a moral individual who stuck to his convictions, so maybe there was hope for Smoker after all.

"Excuse me officers?" a very large Seamen asked them politely, "I'm looking for Vice-Admiral Garp's office but, well," he gestured at the long corridor running the length of the entire building and the side-corridors leading of it in embarrassment, "I can't find it."

"Third corridor on the left, end office," Smoker grunted around his cigar.

"Thank-you sir," the Seaman said, smiling brightly before whipping off his hat and bowing low to kiss Hina's hand. "Ensign." He then moved past them with more purpose, headed in the direction Smoker had indicated.

Hina paused to stare after him in mildly irritated bemusement. She'd had people fawning over her ever since she started training, trying to offer her favours so she would pay more attention to them. She'd never had anyone go so far as to kiss her hand though. Just as unusual was that the Seaman had not adopted the ridiculously dorky behaviour that usually afflicted those who were infatuated with her. It was therefore possible that the Seaman had just been trying to be polite. Maybe. At least he had kept his eyes on her face while talking to her.

He had a nice smile, too.

* * *

Spadille let himself into Garp's office, which by some marvellous stroke of good fortune had a nice big window along one wall, and chuckled slightly at the sight of this world's version of his Shitty Gramps fast asleep in his chair. The wall behind his desk was a mishmash of official documents and pictures drawn by the boys, in pride of place a drawing by Ace of Garp throwing cannonballs at the Oro Jackson that the boy had done when he was five. It was a pretty good picture. There were some of Luffy's abstracts as well dotted around the place and one of the family pictures Blaze had done, too. That picture included stylised versions of Garp, Dragon, Fox, Blaze, Ace, Luffy, baby Orchis and Spadille himself and was pretty detailed for a six-year-old. He must have done it about the time Dragon had visited three months ago as the Dragon in the picture was wearing a green cloak and had red marks down one side of his face; that had been the first time Fox had seen the tattoo on this world's Dragon. Dragon just wasn't Dragon without that tattoo.

Spadille was quietly amused that the picture was on the wall at all, considering. The version of him in the picture was wearing a top hat, carrying a spear and wearing a white shirt and red trousers. That was because Blaze really liked red rather than an indication of Spadille's own sartorial choices, though he had been wearing a shirt on his last visit. Mainly because it had been winter in South Blue and he'd been in a particularly chilly part of the ocean at that point in time, so he'd worn shirts that week. Albatross and Inazuma had been bundled up in overcoats with warm hats, scarves and gloves.

Garp still hadn't woken up though. Maybe he needed a push? Spadille grinned as he leant forwards over the desk, used Armament Haki to harden his fist and swung it down hard towards Garp's head.

It didn't connect; Spadille hadn't been expecting it to, so he had no trouble dodging the counter that the Vice-Admiral aimed at his centre of mass that smashed through the desk like it was made of cardboard. Spadille slipped sideways like a ghost and stepped back out of range as his old man dragged himself back to wakefulness.

"Good afternoon, Monkey D. Garp," he said loudly and cheerfully, voice dripping amusement. "Have a nice nap?"

"What? Yes, thank-you!" Garp replied with his own usual cheer, completely unembarrassed. "How are you, Seaman?"

"I'm very well, but I'm not a Seaman," Spadille said brightly, removing his Marine cap and slouching on the windowsill. "I just came to visit so I could thank you for taking such good care of my wife and our children."

Garp's smile faded and he gave Spadille a keen look. "You're my daughter's husband?"

"Yup," Spadille confirmed, unobtrusively applying haki to the window latch so it would swing open easily. "M'name's Spadille, by the way. I was really worried when she went missing but it was a relief to find she'd been in good hands without me there to look after her. Your grandsons are good kids."

Garp laughed. "Bwahahahaha! They really are! They're going to be fine Marines when they're old enough!"

Spadille did not disabuse him of that notion; he wasn't going to show all his cards just yet. "Well I came, I visited and so now I can leave," he said cheerily, pushing the window open as he jammed the stolen cap back on his head. "See you later old man!" With that he let himself fall out of the window, wrapping himself tightly in Concealment Haki before he activated his Devil Fruit Powers and shot away south. He knew his Gramps well enough to know that Garp would laugh off and promptly forget about any oddities in his manner of entry and departure, the Marine being in no position to throw stones considering his own persistent habit of seeing solid walls as a preferred means of access to rooms rather than doors.

* * *

After raiding Marineford Spadille spent two whole weeks sorting and condensing the reams of information he'd stolen into something more portable and relevant. He didn't do this for the stuff he'd stolen for Fox to pass on to Dragon, as he had no idea what it was the Revolution was interested in. He had in fact left that stuff with Fox so she could negotiate with Dragon directly. Spadille was pretty sure that the Revolution currently consisted of Dragon and his crew plus various scattered sympathisers and informants and that they were all dirt-poor, so Fox wouldn't be angling for money. No, Fox wanted reliable connections, favours and people who wouldn't ask questions about the occasionally odd things she was interested in. Dragon was reliable and willing to pay her in favours; Spadille was busy establishing connections and finding potential suppliers who wouldn't ask questions so long as they got paid. Inazuma was probably taking notes, not that Spadille minded: the more business his suppliers got the more likely they were to _stay_ in business.

By the time Spadille had finished he was sick and tired of official documents and the subtle nuances therein, had acquired a greater distaste for politics than ever before and was pretty sure Sakazuki was completely insane in the manner common amongst religious zealots. The bastard had killed more innocent civilians than most pirates ever managed to and he was a Vice-Admiral with multiple commendations; it made Spadille sick. He would be doing the world a favour by getting rid of the man. He had also confirmed that Albatross' bounty information was a load of bull in this world as well –it was nice to be right– and that the ships she was being blamed for sinking had been refugee ships sunk by –surprise surprise– Sakazuki himself. The price on her head was as political as Falco's back in his home world, except that Falco's bounty was to do with his family and hers was to do with the cover-up regarding the Void Century.

Spadille actually knew all about the Void Century: Fox had noticed the poneglyphs during her solo voyages as a teenager and had copied all the engraved symbols off the cubes perfectly into her Logbooks as a record. After the Straw-Hat pirates had reached Raftel Fox had given her Logs to Robin, who had been able to use the information contained there and her own memories of the poneglyphs she had encountered herself to put together the full story of the events which had led to the alliance of the ten kings, the formation of the World Government and everything that had followed. It was a fairly sordid tale but that just made it more important: those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat the mistakes of the past. The Logia would never turn Albatross away because he wasn't that much of a hypocrite; shunning her for being a 'Devils' Child' was stupid when he too was a son of the devil and he knew far more about what the government was really persecuting her for than she did. She could just _read_ the poneglyphs. Spadille knew what they _meant_.

* * *

Unfortunately the main consequence of having finished with the small forest-worth of stolen paper was that he had to give it back. He wanted his little trip to remain unnoticed for as long as possible, which meant the Marines had to not find all that stuff missing. He didn't mind them noticing the stuff he'd stolen for the Revolution was missing –Dragon would be blamed for that– but he didn't want people to know somebody had been investigating Ohara, the South Blue Purges and Sakazuki. Forewarning your enemies is just stupid.

Luckily giving the paperwork back was easier. He just sent it all to Fox, broke in to Marineford again, stole a few large document boxes and had Fox send it back. Then he packed it into the boxes, carried the boxes down to the archivist and handed them over, using a touch of Concealment Haki to ensure the man wouldn't remember anything about him. It was the archivist's job not to ask questions and put back things that had been taken out, so Spadille left him to it and went back to his ship and crew in South Blue without a care in the world.

He spent a further five months in South Blue, taking the time to stop by on Baterilla to visit Portgas D. Rouge's grave and while he was there met the very elderly butler who was looking after Rouge's house. The man immediately pegged him as a Portgas and was clearly coming to the end of his life, so Spadille told him a bit about Fox and Ace and what the son of the frail old man's late 'little mistress' was getting up to. He then cleared out a lot of Rouge's belongings into sea chests to send to Fox, was given the details for Rouge's inheritance to look after until Ace was old enough to manage it himself and assisted in carrying out the details of his sort-of mother's will. She'd left everything to her child, but stated that if the child did not survive it would all go to Fox. The butler agreed that it was in Ace's best interests for everything to go to Fox anyway as she would be able to manage things for him and hand it over once he was seventeen, provided he was even interested.

Rouge had actually left a few things to Fox personally, like the house. Fox told him that she wanted him to sell it, use part of the money to buy a smaller house somewhere more populated and turn it into a safehouse. The rest of the money could be split between his ship fund and Fox's own expenses. Raising children was not cheap, especially when they ate like Luffy and Ace did. She did grow a lot of her own food and hunting around Mt. Colubo provided the boys with all the meat they could eat, but even if Fox made the boys' clothes herself she still had to buy the fabric and thread, then there were all the other necessities –including weapons– as well as the little luxuries like toys, drawing paper, crayons and all the other things that made childhood more enjoyable.

Spadille had not had any of those things in his own childhood, but Fox had made sure her kids had them and so Spadille had been drawn into playing by eager toddlers and determined children. He'd loved it.

* * *

At the end of the five months after his second trip to Marineford Spadille decided it was time to go back to East Blue for a little while. His daughter had just turned two and he wanted to spend time with her and see the boys again. However there was no way he could get the Will O' Wisp into East Blue across the Grand Line and though he could carry Albatross that far he couldn't carry Inazuma. But he didn't want to make his choices without external input, so he brought up the matter after dinner one night.

"I've done all I really can in South Blue now, so I'm going to travel into East Blue next," he said simply before anyone could get up to clear the plates away. "I know Albatross will want to come with me, but I'm not sure what you-" meaning Inazuma "-want. So let me know within the week, okay?"

Inazuma nodded. He didn't say anything for three days afterwards, which wasn't exactly unusual, but there was a slightly heavier atmosphere on board. They'd all been living in close quarters for most of a year and had come to know each-other pretty well.

On the fourth day he approached Spadille on the night watch.

"I would prefer to remain in South Blue," the revolutionary said simply. "There is still much to be done here."

Spadille nodded. "I thought so. D'you want the Will O' Wisp? I can't take it with me across the Grand Line." He wasn't just offering Inazuma the ship; the main cabin had both a normal den-den mushi and a white den-den mushi that Spadille had stolen from a Marine base so he could make secure calls. He was basically offering his soon-to-be-former crewmate a major asset to take with him when he joined the Revolutionary Army.

"Why?" Spadille guessed he meant, why are you offering me this.

"I can't take her with me, she's a good ship and it isn't like I can't get a new one if I need to," Spadille said simply. "I haven't exactly been over-generous with dividing the money we got either, so consider Will O' Wisp to be your share of our loot." He paused. "I might stop by Momoiro Island on my way through the Grand Line; I know Iva's been asking about me lately."

Fox heard all sorts of things from Dragon as he now trusted her implicitly, despite their very slow and rocky start. He knew she wouldn't tell anyone what they chatted about and having somebody to bounce ideas off was important. Iva was just starting to get involved with the Revolutionaries alongside a certain Tyrant and the former had been somewhat curious about who exactly was laying down the foundations for what promised to be a truly planet-spanning information network. Besides, Spadille kinda wanted to be friends with Iva again. They'd always had fun together back home, generally at other peoples' expense. Which reminded him: he needed to find a discreet dressmaker sometime soon so he could set up a few more different identities. Pretending to be an okama was always a hoot, but pretending to be an actual woman was even funnier. It was a challenge due to his build, but that just made it more fun and cunning clothing could do all sorts of interesting things. Albatross might be slightly traumatised by the experience but she'd be better for it afterwards and Kamabakka Kingdom was almost the safest place for a young woman to be on the Grand Line, even one with a massive bounty on her head.

* * *

Edited 19.7.15 for grammer.


	3. Acquisition

**Acquisition**

East Blue, despite being where he had grown up, was not the Sea Spadille knew best: that honour went to the Grand Line. However there was still something about the air of East Blue that loosened the knots in the Logia's heart and made him smile; maybe it was because his wife was living here with their kids. As it was, leaving the Calm Belt and entering the so-called 'weakest sea' cheered Spadille immensely, so much so that he put on an additional burst of speed as he headed towards a nearby island.

As he had expected, visiting Momoiro Island had been great fun. Iva had been very surprised to meet somebody who could _fly_ across the Grand Line but had quickly rallied and within hours the two of them had been chatting like old friends. Poor Albatross hadn't known how to react to so many okama all wanting to be her friend, but she'd managed to keep her cool and hadn't had a breakdown at all. In fact, once she'd got her head around the situation she'd enjoyed herself immensely on the ridiculously pink island and doubled the size of her wardrobe. Spadille himself had also been given lots of clothes, though he'd been very firm in telling the dressmakers what he wanted and how they had to look. Regardless of what he was wearing Spadille had a certain image to uphold and wearing clothing that didn't fit or suit him just wasn't in the cards; he'd sooner go naked and would be just fine doing so. Despite it being very clear that Spadille had the heart of a red-blooded man rather than a maiden Iva had told him he was welcome to come back at any time, as a man who could be suave while wearing a floor-length ballgown and two-inch heels certainly had the _soul_ of an okama.

Spadille honestly didn't care much about gender preferences or clothing anymore; he wore what he wore because it was practical and in honour of the people he had lost, which had later become his signature look. He was just as comfortable in any other clothing that fitted, though he didn't much like the Marine uniform due to the connotations it held. His only problem with dresses was that they were frequently impractical for fighting in, though the psychological advantage they gave him was nothing to sneeze at. Back in his own world Marines had frequently _run away_ when faced with a cross-dressing Yonko bearing down on them. There were certain psychological lines that when crossed prompted a flight response and seeing 'Inferno' Spadille in a dress was apparently too much for most peoples' narrow minds to cope with. His favourite had pole-axed enemies and allies alike.

Landing lightly on sandy soil at the edge of a smallish wooded island, Spadille put Albatross down on her own two feet and wandered over to a shady spot for a nap. There were animals on the island so in a few hours he would catch and cook dinner, but for now he just wanted to rest for a little while.

* * *

Spadille had been in East Blue with Albatross for two months and they were gradually working their way northwards towards Dawn Island when they stumbled across a brutal gang fight in the streets of a rather rundown town not far from Yotsuba Island. Spadille's only concession to anonymity was leaving his hat back with the sea chests and wearing an open vest, but Albatross had curled her shoulder-length hair which still held a hint of indigo from their time in South Blue, dyed her skin a rich chestnut colour and was wearing a cowboy hat. She was nearly sixteen now and was gradually coming to understand that everybody had the right to live, no matter what the Marines said.

They'd only come into town for supplies and Spadille couldn't see the point in breaking the heads of young idiots who had no idea of how weak they were, so he just sat down on the edge of the dried-up fountain in the square with Albatross next to him and waited patiently for the violence to stop. There was no point in trying to buy things with this ruckus going on and most of the shops had barred their doors anyway to keep the fighters out.

It took the better part of an hour, but the fight did eventually draw to a close with only one man standing. Well, one teenager: olive skinned and black haired, wearing a blue and white sweatband around his head and a bloody steel tonfa gripped in each fist. He hadn't been part of either group that Spadille had noticed; men wearing both gangs' colours had attacked him at various points. The teen swayed a little, turned and glared at the two of them.

"What're you lookin' at?"

Spadille raised an eyebrow. "Someone who needs medical attention and several square meals," he bantered back, noticing the kid's skinny build and slightly hollow eyes. "Alba-chan, can you do the shopping without me?"

"Yes, Captain," Albatross told him dutifully, eyeing the older teen warily before turning on her heel and walking down the road towards where doors were being unbarred.

"Captain?" the teen repeated warily, shifting his grip on his weapons. "You a pirate?"

"I'm the person offering you food," Spadille retorted, but not unkindly. He'd finally placed the person in front of him: this was the man whose presence had kept Fox from sinking Krieg's flagship before she met Luffy. His name was Gin and Fox had never seen his face, but she remembered his voice, his haki and still had the coat he'd left with her somewhere amongst her effects. She'd described him as being honourable, loyal and caring with a thick streak of brutal ruthlessness and that was just the kind of person Spadille wanted for his crew.

Gin snorted. "There's not a restaurant in town that'll let me through the front door," he told the older man flatly.

"Then we'll just have to ask for take-away," Spadille said calmly. "Money is money and no sane businessman will turn down a paying customer." He stepped forwards, gripped the teen's shoulder and steered him firmly down a road towards the smell of food that had been teasing the Logia for several minutes now. Gin twitched under the hand, but didn't fight back. Spadille knew from listening to Fox that Sanji had been the first person to ever show Gin kindness in their own world, so a little care would win the promising young fighter's loyalty forever. It was a tad opportunistic of him, but both he and Gin would benefit from the teen joining his 'crew' so he didn't see anything wrong with it. He would need to get a boat from somewhere in short order though.

Within his own mind he wondered at how badly he was missing Zoro to start taking in strays in his partner's absence; dragging on board ship malnourished feral children with wary eyes and a fierce drive to survive had always been the swordsman's shtick. Most of those children had grown up into fiercely loyal crewmates, but a few had made very bad choices that Zoro had killed them for; Spadille's partner took his responsibilities seriously. Hopefully Gin would fall into the former category rather than the latter.

* * *

By the time Gin had finished eating lunch with Spadille, the teen had decided the towering man was a bit crazy but worth sticking around with. By the end of the week he corrected his initial impression: Spadille was impossibly powerful, completely insane and always got _exactly_ what he wanted. Looking around the deck of the small but sturdy two-masted Marine ship now renamed 'Morning Glory' that they'd somehow stolen without being noticed at all, Gin decided that there was no man anywhere he'd rather serve than his current captain. Even if said captain was clean out of his mind.

* * *

Spadille's first action after acquiring himself a very nice small Marine ship with a regulation Sea Stone coated hull was to beach it on Organ Island at a good distance from any settlements, then walk into Orange Town with Gin to buy paint to cover up the Marine markings with and get replacement sails. The point of bringing Gin was so that he could talk to his newest crewmember privately and have somebody to carry everything on the trip back. Captains didn't carry things if there were crew present who could do the heavy lifting for them.

"So, are you enjoying yourself yet?" the former Yonko asked lightly as the town appeared through the trees.

Gin, now looking much healthier and wearing better clothes, smiled thinly at his captain. "We just stole a Marine ship right out of the harbour of a Marine base without any of the Marines noticing. You are either ridiculously lucky or some kind of god."

Spadille grinned. He wasn't a god in this world yet: if he wanted to achieve that he'd have to accompany Fox on her planned trip to Mystoria to prevent the famine she had solved in their own world. Being adored and venerated had been pretty fun actually and the locals had made fine pirates once they'd got the hang of sailing. If he could get himself deified again he'd have a ready supply of willing warrior followers to help him conquer a territory in the New World. Of course to get himself deified he'd have to get Fox deified too, which she wouldn't like much but was able to deal with. She'd managed just fine the first time around after all, even after the Skypeians and Mystorians had met and traded stories, so she'd be able to handle it better this time; practice made perfect and all that.

"It was neither luck nor divine power that let me steal Morning Glory," he told Gin, "just skill. There are people out there on the sea who can do things that look impossible and people who can fight them on their own level despite lacking such skills. Then there are Devil Fruit Users, Fishmen and oh so many others. I'm damn good, but I need a crew of people willing to work themselves into the ground to get themselves up near to my level if I'm to make it to the top."

"You want to be Pirate King?" Gin asked curiously.

"Nah; I'm just going to overthrow one of the Yonko," Spadille told him matter-of-factly.

Gin stumbled, but recovered admirably as they set foot on the main road. "You know what captain, I believe you," he said quietly as Spadille looked around for a shop selling the right kind of paint, "and I think it's something I'd like to see for myself."

Spadille grinned. "Then prepare yourself for hell: you've a long way to go before you're ready for the Grand Line!"

* * *

Repainting the ship and dismantling the central gun turret took the three of them a full day, but by the end of it the ship was no longer recognisable as a Marine vessel and the clean new white sails gave the Morning Glory the look of a large private yacht. Any pirates who tried to rob them would soon realise their mistake though: Gin was very strong despite being a total newbie, Albatross was getting progressively deadlier in her use of her Devil Fruit Ability as part of her combat style and Spadille by himself was several weight-classes above any pirate crew sailing the Blues.

"She needs a figurehead captain," Albatross commented once the Morning Glory was afloat again.

"Yeah, she does," Spadille agreed. "Not here though: we'll take her to Mirrorball Island and get a proper artist to do one."

"Can I go shopping?" she asked hopefully, reminding the Logia that fugitive or not his most long-standing crew member was still a teenage girl. Being around the okama had informed Albatross of certain things she hadn't previously understood, like fashion and makeup, if only because she hadn't thought to ask him. At least she had enough self-respect to feel she was worth spending money on now.

"This is about Doskoi Panda, isn't it?" he asked wryly. "No, you don't need to answer Alba-chan: I get it. I _am_ married and I _do_ know about the female compulsion to buy pretty things. You have your share of the money from our past dealings to buy things for yourself with, but remember that that's _all_ the money you've got and we aren't likely to get more unless a job surfaces."

Albatross hugged him, sprouting two extra pairs of arms so she could reach around more of him. "Thank-you!" she breathed before dashing through the surf and climbing on board to start getting the ship ready.

"Come on Gin, before she leaves without us," Spadille said with a cheery grin, jumping easily onto the deck from the beach. Gin was more than two years older than Albatross, eighteen to her barely sixteen, and had absolutely no idea how to deal with women. Spadille was looking forward to being able to introduce him to Fox just to see what would happen. In the meantime however he had a ship, was slowly acquiring a crew and in a few more years he could start venturing onto the Grand Line for more than just short stops.

Wasn't Doskoi Panda a ridiculously expensive and popular clothing brand? Maybe they could rob a warehouse full of the stuff, let Alba-chan pick out her favourites and sell the rest on. He did need the money if he was going to be able to afford to get his dream ship built in a few years time.

* * *

After a week spend on Mirrorball Island in which Albatross shopped, Spadille made sure Gin had few decent changes of clothing and better weapons and Gin himself wandered around a bit taking in the sights, the figurehead was finally finished. Spadille then paid the artist for the cheerfully risqué piece of art and that same evening robbed half-a-dozen different establishments of both money and expensive goods before quietly sailing away into the night. The Doskoi Panda clothing would have to cool off a little bit first, but he'd make a mint selling it on the Grand Line.

While in East Blue Spadille visited Fox and the kids four times, the visits spread out over the course of the year and none of them longer than a few days. He didn't like leaving his crew to their own devices for any longer than that, even if he was leaving them on a deserted island with specific training exercises to complete. He also visited Fox's local contacts, set up more drops for goods and sounded out reliable if not exactly trustworthy people in various places to see if they were interested in what Fox had in mind. A surprisingly large number of them were; Spadille suspected the reason East Blue was considered the weakest sea was that the really strong people either left to make it big elsewhere or were smart enough to keep a _really_ low profile like Fox herself was doing.

He was pretty sure that last guy he'd found living quietly on one of the Polestar Islands not too far from Loguetown had originally been part of the Roger Pirates and was getting slightly bored with his retirement. Not that the man had agreed to join Spadille or do anything other than not ask his customers awkward questions, but he had introduced the Logia to his nephew who was a very capable chef and eager to see the world. Skua was a cheerful and friendly young man in his early twenties who loved cooking and food and was very easygoing until you tried to steal from the kitchen, at which point he threw hand-axes at you with terrifying accuracy. He also had a massive double-headed axe he was pretty good with and had no qualms whatsoever about killing people with it; Spadille suspected early childhood experiences with bandits or pirates were to blame for that. Skua was after all living with his uncle rather than his parents, who were not mentioned once.

Being a smart man, Spadille surrendered the kitchen and full responsibility for the food supplies to Skua and let the young chef do as he thought best; that was his job after all.

* * *

Once Spadille felt there was nothing that could really justify his staying in East Blue any longer he sailed the Morning Glory across to the opposite end of the Calm Belt from Loguetown and then down the edge of the Red Line into the New World. There weren't many places on the far side of Fishman that did coating, but Spadille knew all of them and he had everything he needed to sail in these waters. Well, everything except an experienced crew, but his trio of newbies would get there and they at least all knew enough to shut up and do as they were told in such dangerous waters.

It took them two weeks to get the ship coated and another week to sail down to Fishman Island from the small but highly patronised coating business on a tiny island not too far from Raijin. Spadille spent the time waiting for the ship to be ready drilling his crew in the basics of the Grand Line that he hadn't already covered, making sure they were keeping up their training and pushing them harder to improve. Albatross was good at long-range but still vulnerable to close-range attacks, Gin was constantly getting faster and stronger and Skua was both nimble and showing an instinctive grasp of Observation Haki that Spadille would have to train him in further once they were in Paradise. What he was doing right now was insanely risky but it was the only way to take the ship with them into North Blue.

Gin really hadn't known what to do with all the teenage mermaids being curious and nice to him when they arrived on Fishman Island and had frozen up until Spadille rescued him. The Logia had then politely introduced himself to a maternal-looking older mermaid and asked her to give Gin some insight into the female mind and some useful cultural background on merfolk in general. The nice mermaid had agreed, taken charge of the skittish nineteen-year-old and a few days later Gin had been much less confused and more tentatively friendly to his numerous admirers. Alba-chan had made a number of friends and done a lot of gossiping about clothes and boys and Skua had hunted down supplies while Spadille had divided his time between familiarising himself with the vastly different surroundings and looking for what few merfolk he had known who existed in this world as well as his own. It seemed the main difference between his and Fox's home world and this one was the dire shortage of part-pirate mermaids. Not even Calico Belle, oldest of the part-bloods, existed here and it broke his heart really to find himself in a world where almost none of his brothers had children. He couldn't find any of Rayleigh's kids either and he'd certainly looked; he hadn't even found _Pearl_ which was almost unthinkable considering the vast number of aunts and uncles Fox had at home. Marco had sired nearly four dozen kids on Fishman back home but Rayleigh had approaching twice that number.

Some of the handful of mermaids Spadille _had_ found with pirate blood were Ace's half-sister Ama and her very young daughter Ishilly, but it was clear they had no idea who they were related to so he didn't mention it. Interestingly Ama wasn't a D, which suggested Roger might have another child out there. Spitfire maybe? Well, she certainly wasn't on Fishman and Tempest had never existed: he'd checked. He also found a few of Marco's older daughters and one of Jozu's, none whom were even ten yet, but there didn't seem to be any others which made him wonder what kind of cultural change had occurred in his own world to make mermaids start seeing pirates as breeding opportunities. They had certainly favoured the Whitebeard Pirates as their studs; Spadille had been astounded by how few of his brothers _hadn't_ sired a child on Fishman.

After they'd been on Fishman for five days Spadille realised that, according to the timeline of his own world, Fisher Tiger was due to raid Mariejois within the coming week and promptly put off hunting down the shipwright he'd had in mind in favour of getting out of the area as quickly as possible. Much as he sympathised with the slaves he didn't want to be caught up in the mess that was sure to follow and sailed direct to Water Seven –under the Florian Triangle and presumably the counterparts of the monsters that had induced his and Fox's arrival here in the first place– before surfacing. They had plenty of supplies on board after all and he'd always enjoyed travelling along the undersea currents. His crew were a little overwhelmed by the experience, but they soon got over it and adapted to the strangeness. After all, their first taste of the Grand Line had been a small slice of the tamer fringes of the New World and Fishman Island, which was pretty special even by Grand Line standards.

When they resurfaced on the far side of the Triangle Spadille sold the Doskoi Panda clothing on Water Seven at a premium price, then went looking for a certain fishman shipwright who'd built the Oro Jackson. Spadille knew Tom would be busy with the Sea Train, but hopefully the canny old man would be willing to recommend somebody to him who could create what the Logia had in mind for his flagship.

As it happened, Tom was willing to recommend somebody to him: his brother, who lived back on Fishman Island. Not wanting to return there in the current circumstances as they were messy, complicated and not even his business, Spadille decided to put off getting his ship built for at least another year and instead sailed across the Grand Line, through the Calm Belt and into North Blue.

* * *

North Blue was much trickier to sail in than the other three Blues. This was because it had no sea currents that travelled all the way around from the pole to skirt the Calm Belt and back up again but had instead several bands of smaller currents, which meant that the northern quarter of the Blue was almost solid ice for half the year and icebergs were common all year round. The weather was also much colder than at corresponding latitudes in the other Blues, which in turn affected the economy quite significantly. North Blue had advanced fuel engines for heating and vehicle propulsion and a lot of their ships were steel-hulled to deal with the ice. Only the islands in the lower third of the Blue had a climate comparable to most of East Blue and even there the buildings were built with warmth in mind rather than ventilation.

On their first stop Spadille bought a newspaper and was rather delighted to have a bounty poster for a much younger-looking Whitey Bay drop out of it. He'd first got to know her after becoming Second Division Commander in his own world –though not very well to be honest– and later become much better acquainted through Fox, who was a long-time friend of the Ice Witch. The beautiful and deadly pirate captain had later become his daughter's godmother and had frequently visited their headquarters, nominally to spend time with Fox and her god-daughter but also to fall into bed with the three of them from time to time. Spadille was quietly amused by her discreet but enduring admiration of Zoro, which was actually reciprocated as the swordsman respected the pirate captain for her strength and drive. That Whitey Bay was about a decade the trio's senior had never mattered to any of them.

Considering how he'd utterly failed to find Doma in South Blue, Spadille decided not to look for the Ice Witch and just get on with completing Fox's network. If he did happen to bump into her, well that was different.

Sailing in North Blue in a wooden-hulled ship was a tricky business –even when that wooden hull was coated in Sea Stone– requiring constant attention to a person's surroundings, a strong awareness of the seasons changing and a dollop of luck with the winds. The most northern areas could only be reached at the height of summer for about two months and even then icebergs were a serious risk, the slightly more temperate latitudes were only accessible for six months due to blizzards and ice storms and the remaining seas still boasted the odd snowstorm now and then regardless of the season. Spadille had arrived in early March and intended to sail up parallel to one side of the Red Line to reach as far north as he could get around midsummer, then sail down again ahead of the winter and do the southernmost islands at his leisure. He couldn't afford to mess about or dawdle, which was why he'd left North Blue until last. He knew what he wanted doing, how to go about it, the kind of places to look and his crew were competent if not exactly expert.

Skua had no prior experience of arctic cold, but Gin and Albatross had both been there when the Morning Glory sailed up to Tequila Wolf in East Blue and had some idea of how appallingly bitter the weather could get near the poles. Spadille's only concession to the weather was to wear a shirt or jacket when it snowed and the entire crew huddled in his cabin at night for warmth. What little sense of modesty his subordinates had managed to cling onto thus far was discarded in the quest for comfort and all three frequently piled into bed with him, all wearing thick pyjamas and wrapping themselves around whatever part of him they could reach. Being a Fire Person, Spadille radiated heat like a furnace unless actively suppressing it and the bitter chill in the air had him burning even hotter than normal. He didn't post a night watch for their first two months in North Blue; he wasn't that cruel. Instead he extended the range of his Observation Haki and napped, getting out of bed every hour or so to make sure there weren't any icebergs drifting across their course. He was getting better at detecting them with practice, but having an actual visual confirmation allowed him to rest easier.

By June the weather was warm enough for his three crewmembers to retire back to their separate cabins and for Spadille to post a proper watch at night. It was also warm enough for Spadille to set aside his jacket again, but he didn't as everybody on the islands they stopped at was very warmly dressed. There was wearing what you wanted and then there was being blatantly conspicuous, and since he was trying to build a covert information network which doubled as a grey market he wanted to avoid getting stared at.

* * *

By the autumn Spadille had a good number of contacts in place, had co-opted a few local information networks and was sailing south again with a crew of four, having recruited a very capable but dissatisfied doctor in Lvneel. Tristan wanted to learn more about medicine than was possible on his home island due to a number of censorship laws and had jumped at a chance to practice elsewhere. That Spadille intended to settle in the New World eventually was even better as far as the ginger-haired medical professional was concerned: he would get to examine and treat far more different sentient species that was possible in the Blues.

Tristan brought to mind how Falco might have turned out if he'd been more interested in medicine than economics and governance and Spadille got on pretty well with him after first making quite clear that, doctor or not, _nobody_ told Edward D. Spadille what to do on his own ship. After that was out of the way the lanky young man fitted into the crew as though he'd always been there, chatting with Skua, discussing intellectual topics with Albatross and sparring with Gin. Tristan favoured a soft style, targeting pressure points much like Fox could and was both startlingly flexible and highly adaptable. His long limbs gave him greater reach than anyone else on the crew except Spadille himself and he was very, very good at dodging. Spadille promptly ordered him to improve Albatross' combat skills and was very pleased with the results. Alba-chan favoured a breaking style over pressure points but she still learnt a lot of very basic but important things from the doctor.

Spadille spent winter moving between the islands closest to the Calm Belt and occasionally making short trips into Paradise while his crew were exploring some island or other or hanging around some small town. He wanted to set up contacts on the Grand Line _before_ he took his crew there as that way they had something to build on. Fox had already set up partial networks in South, West and East Blue while looking after Rouge that he had just had to return to and expand, but there wasn't really all that much in Paradise yet. She'd made several contacts in the New World that were already bearing fruit, but in order to make sure the first half of the Grand Line had useful people in the right places Spadille would have to go back to West Blue. He didn't want to do that yet: Alba-chan had been horribly persecuted there and the very idea of going back upset her to think about. She still kept herself disguised and none of the rest of the crew had any idea what she really looked like, or even what her real name was. She was just Albatross or Alba to them. Spadille didn't blame her for hiding her past, but he knew that sooner or later she would have to face it or destroy the friendships she was building with her crewmates.

Other than setting up the network and keeping his crew fed Spadille also ran a few personal errands and made an effort to avoid the various pirate crews setting themselves up in preparation for venturing out onto the Grand Line; some of those crews had been highly infamous in Spadille's own future –the Donquixote Pirates for instance– and killing them early would seriously limit the usefulness of his foreknowledge. Besides, Zoro would be cross with him if he didn't share.

Spadille also did not want to interfere with the events that had led to Law getting a dream to pursue; Ds without dreams were dead men walking, something he knew personally from back when he was Fire-Fist, so horrific as the experience was for the preteen it was important for his future survival. Although Spadille had his own plans for Donquixote Rosinante, the idiot who betrayed his big brother to the marines in such an incompetent manner, and that Devil Fruit of his…

* * *

By the time spring came around Spadille had finished building the information network in the Blues and to celebrate he sailed into the Grand Line and took his little crew to Sabaody and threw a small but very expensive party in Shakky's Rip-off Bar. Rayleigh wasn't there thankfully as the old man would recognise his features and lying to that man was nigh-impossible, but Shakky was _very_ curious about the small rookie crew and their obviously highly experienced captain that she'd somehow never heard of before. Spadille flirted with her shamelessly and told her he'd be making a big splash in a few more years once his crew was properly up to scratch, so she should keep an eye on the papers.

While in the Archipelago Spadille also discreetly wiped out a few slaving operations, thereby acquiring six more people for his crew who either felt indebted to him, had nowhere else to go or just recognised he was strong enough to be worth following. Balis was a Wotan, a cross between a giant and a Giant Triggerfish fishman with all the strength his heritage suggested. Unfortunately he was also a young brawler with no particular skills, which was how he'd ended up a slave. He was also very touchy about his background and joined up because Spadille was apparently the first person to ask him what he wanted. The Morning Glory was a bit small to be comfortable for someone nearly twenty-five feet tall, but Balis didn't seem to mind.

Sagi was a martial artist of the Longleg tribe and felt shamed by her enslavement, so she had immediately sworn herself to serve Spadille when he freed her. She was of average height for her people with curly brown hair, modest curves and fairly pale skin. She was also rather stoic, reminding Spadille of Zoro. However she was also slightly body-shy, which hopefully she would grow out of.

Kobold looked like a small, green version of Gekko Moriah, which Spadille was privately intrigued by. He was the youngest of the recruits –just eleven– and Spadille took him on because he literally had nowhere else to go. Kobold had asked to join because he wanted to be allowed to shoot people: he had picked up his first gun while trying to get away from the slavers and turned out to be a natural marksman. Spadille tested his skills with a pistol, was pleasantly surprised and promised to ensure the pistachio-skinned brat learnt all there was to know about every single type of gun as soon as he was big enough to handle each individual weapon's recoil. This meant that Kobold would be sticking to pistols for a few more years yet. Rifles would come later when he was strong enough to manage the gun's kick.

Matsuri was a dancing girl and a Devil Fruit User: she could conjure bronze rings in various sizes that she used to perform with. She was also the only one of his new crew who bore the Hoof of the Dragon and had been willing to do _anything_ so long as Spadille took her with him. The Logia had turned down her offer but still let her join the crew; he was interested in what else her Devil Fruit could do and she was a decent flute-player as well as a dancer. Up until then he had been the only person on board capable of playing an instrument and music was important on a ship, especially since a cello by itself got a bit lonely after a while. Matsuri looked like she was from Wano with her petite figure, straight, glossy black hair, black, slanted eyes and golden skin. However she'd been a slave since she was ten –nine years in total– and didn't remember much from before. Spadille intended to get Fox to take the slave mark off Matsuri's back as soon as possible and give the girl a quiet talking-to.

Hendrick Teresh was the oldest of the new recruits at nearly fifty and his black hair was going grey at the temples. He was also a life-long pirate and former captain with a bounty of sixty-eight million and the nickname of 'Fire-Bomb' due to his fondness for grenades, incendiaries and other explosives. He'd never been to the New World but he had been in Paradise for over half his life and was a highly experienced navigator. He joined the crew because his own crew was dead, he recognised he was getting on in years and Spadille was really going places: 'Fire-Bomb' Teresh was a canny old bastard and wanted to join the fun he could see was coming.

The last of Spadille's new recruits was a swordsman with a fondness for poetry called Long Tew. Tew looked the very picture of a foppish blond airhead but was actually street-smart, well-educated and devastating with a rapier. He didn't have a bounty yet despite being a pirate as he'd been part of a large crew that had fallen foul of slavers after passing out drunk in the lawless area of Sabaody. Tew was twenty, had been a pirate for a little over a year and had a bad habit of playing with his opponents that Spadille hoped could be beaten out of him. Maybe Zoro would show up soon and help.

* * *

Once his newly expanded crew had settled in Spadille sailed them down to Fishman Island and then beyond into the New World. However rather than venturing further he sailed them south through the Calm Belt and into South Blue: Spadille wanted to catch up with Inazuma and put his crew through their paces before venturing onto the Grand Line properly. He also wanted to visit his Pops, which was most easily done from South Blue. Pop's territory was closest to South Blue and his crew weren't strong or cohesie enough yet to be left in Paradise, let alone the New World.

The first thing Spadille did in South Blue was sail around and retrieve everything he'd been forced to cache due to initially not having a ship and later giving the Will O' Wisp to Inazuma. His crew of ten –himself not included– were rather surprised by some of the things that were loaded on board, especially the animated sea chests that only Alba-chan and Gin were familiar with. Kobold-kun however was pleased as punch with his new flintlocks that could fire two shots each before needing to be reloaded. Spadille had got them free off a gunsmith as they were a prototype with a breech-loading mechanism and a sliding chamber which had slots for two bullets. The gunsmith had told Spadille that he was trying to build a gun that would allow for multiple shots to be fired before needing to reload, but that the main problem was not with the gun but the bullets and powder. Spadille, remembering Izo and Curiel's habit of pre-preparing bullets and powder in twists of paper so they could reload quickly, suggested somehow packaging bullet and powder with paper so they could just be slotted into a gun at the appropriate moment. The gunsmith's face had lit up and the Logia had been dragged off to sign a secrecy contract and given a set of working two-shooter prototypes as a sweetener. Which reminded him: he needed to go back for a visit to see how the shitty old man was doing and claim his share of the profit.

However in their third week in South Blue an argument sprung up between Gin and Tristan, who were just too different not to clash and did so frequently. This argument however didn't just blow up and blow over but stuck around for three days and dragged half the rest of the crew into it until Spadille made them tell him what the problem was.

As it turned out, it was a pretty basic problem.

* * *

"So captain, who _is_ first mate?" Teresh asked with a grin in the silence that followed Spadille's demand for quiet. The blue-haired captain folded his arms and gave the formerly bickering pirates a _look_ that suggested he was seriously considering throwing them all overboard on principle.

"None of you are," the eight-foot, massively built man in the black top hat told his crew flatly. "Skua is the chef, Tristan is the doctor, Teresh is the navigator, Kobold is the sniper, Matsuri is the musician, Albatross is the log-keeper and Gin, Tew, Sagi and Balis are the fighters. There's only one first mate I'll ever take on and he isn't here."

"Log-keeper?" Kobold asked curiously, having avoided the argument due to most of the older crew members not being interested in his opinion. The kid was only eleven after all.

"Alba-chan keeps track of what day it is, where we are, the weather, what we have in the hold, the islands we visit, what we do on them and so on," Spadille said patiently.

"That sounds like first mate," Teresh noted. Spadille's eyes narrowed.

"She does it because she's got a neater hand than I do and enjoys it; Alba-chan's been with me since she was thirteen. She is not my first mate because she doesn't have the killer instinct for it. I repeat, I'll only ever have one first mate and he isn't on board."

"So where is he?" Sagi asked, folding her arms nervously.

Their captain snorted. "Probably lost, to be taking this long," he muttered ruefully, scratching his head under the edge of his hat.

"Who is he?" Tew asked, settling down on the rail so the wind blew his golden curls back from his face.

Their captain smiled a wide, happy grin and flopped back against the main mast. "He's Roronoa Zoro, peerless swordsman, demon sword-smith and my husband."

There was a stunned silence.

"I thought you had a wife, captain," Albatross noted with a slightly bemused smile.

"I do!" Their captain said brightly. "She's married to both of us. Or we're all three married to each-other; whatever. Anyway, she's at home raising the kids right now and he's goodness-knows-where but I'm sure he'll get here sooner or later. I'm giving him three years to show up in before I make my play for the top or we'll be starting without him."

"Wait," Tristan said, raising a hand. "You're married to two people, one of whom is a man."

"Yep." Spadille grinned at his stymied crew. He hadn't yet had the pleasure of informing anybody here about his marriage and it was as fun as he'd hoped it would be.

"And you have _children_."

"Four so far, but I'm hoping our wife will see fit to give us a load more to spoil in good time," Spadille said cheerfully.

"Four children; right," Tristan said slowly, "and your husband is _missing_."

"Has been for, hm, over ten years now," Spadille confirmed with a frown. "He must have gotten seriously lost."

"Lost?"

Their captain shook his head. "Zoro's always getting lost, even when he knows where he is and where he's supposed to be going. Poor guy. Never, ever let him anywhere _near_ the rudder unsupervised." He paused. "Then again, I got lost for six years so I can't really talk."

"You got _lost_? For six _years_?" Sagi repeated incredulously.

"We all three had an unfortunate accident in the Florian Triangle about a year before the Pirate King was executed," Spadille said shortly. "Our wife tells me she wound up in South Blue four months later, but I honestly have no idea where I was until I found myself on a familiar island in the Grand Line five years ago and Zoro is still missing."

"The Florian Triangle?" Teresh mused. "How interesting; I wonder if that's happened to anybody else."

"Probably," Spadille shrugged, "considering that hundreds of people vanish there every year; it's why I prefer to sail _underneath_ it now rather than through it." He sighed. "Now that you know that, let me point out that the first mate is appointed by the captain so if one of you had been it I would have _told_ you. When I'm not here Teresh is in charge since he's the one with the most experience, but Alba-chan has veto since she's sailed with me the longest and knows how I roll."

"Going on a few more flying trips?" Gin asked, the fingers of one hand tapping on the handle of his new ball-ended tonfa.

"Yep: longer ones this time since I feel there are now enough of you with sufficient experience between you that if I stay away for a fortnight you'll probably still all be here when I get back," their captain told them flippantly. "No outright piracy though please: I have a particular plan in mind for how I intend to announce myself to the world and I won't have you jumping the gun."

"I've already got a fairly sizeable bounty," Teresh pointed out dryly.

"Alba-chan can help you temporarily change your appearance," Spadille told him before turning to face the rest of the crew. "I'll be back next week: consider this a test of your competence and maturity."

* * *

Spadille wasn't too worried about his crew. He had marked them all using Fox's Devil Fruit Ability so he could track them down no matter where they were, Teresh was experienced enough to keep everyone in order and Alba-chan knew what he wanted done. That meant he had most of two weeks to introduce himself to his Pops and spend time with his brothers.

Well, his brothers and a certain Marshall D. Teach, who was no brother of _his_. Spadille really, really wanted to murder Teach messily but recognised it would only get him in his Pops' bad books. Then there was the fact that before Thatch had found that Devil Fruit Teach had saved any number of his brothers' lives in various fights, pulled his weight and been as cheerful and easygoing a part of the crew as anybody could wish for. So Blackbeard would have to wait.

Spadille knew he lacked the self-control to meet Teach face-to-face without killing him –it would be so _easy_ – so he was going to avoid the traitor like he was avoiding Sakazuki. Fox had a way of marking her enemies that was totally different yet vaguely similar to how she marked her nakama. For one, you didn't even have to touch them to mark them: being able to sense them with Observation Haki was enough. The 'tag' then worked as a proximity sensor, telling you when your enemy was approaching. Sakazuki had a 'red flag' on him and Spadille would put one on Teach as soon as he was close enough, then wait until Teach was off the Moby Dick before visiting his Pops and brothers. The easiest way to avoid Teach would be to hang out with the Division Commanders rather than the crew generally, so he was going to do just that.

He was going to have so much fun messing with his brothers' heads and Fox's solution to the problem this world's Marco would be facing in a few decades when he finally realised he wasn't aging like his brothers was going to give Spadille _years_ of teasing material.


	4. Familiarity

**Familiarity**

Having been a part of his Pops' crew for about twenty years, Marco the Phoenix, the First Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates, was confident in his own abilities, those of his captain and those of his crew. After all Whitebeard had been known and feared as 'the Strongest Man in the World' since the death of the Pirate King and the aging pirate captain chose strong and good folks to join his crew and become his sons and daughters. In fact, there were so _many_ strong pirates on the crew now that Whitebeard had decided to create a new Division again and as of the previous month there were now eleven divisions and eleven Division Commanders. Marco didn't think Kingdew would be the last new Division Commander created either: the so-called 'Golden Age of Piracy' was in full swing and there was plenty of room on the Moby Dick for more crew. Even if they couldn't fit everyone on the flagship Pops wouldn't turn people away, as there was always room in the fleet for another ship or three. That was a logistics and supervising nightmare to put off until it actually happened though.

However arriving on deck to supervise the shift change to find there was a total stranger slouched at the base of the mast cleaning a spear and being ignored by everybody bustling about was a bit disconcerting. Marco walked over to stand in front of the man, automatically stopping just out of the reach of the weapon resting across the stranger's lap.

"So who might you be, yoi?" The blond Zoan asked mildly, one fist propped against his hip.

The man glanced up from his work and grinned. "You must be Marco; I'm here to see Pops."

The First Division commander canted his head to one side as the stranger ran a polishing cloth over the almost two-foot long, double-edged blade at the top of the wooden shaft balanced across his knees.

"I know I've never seen you before, so I'm not sure why you seem to think you're part of the crew, yoi," Marco responded, voice still calm and pleasant. There'd be plenty of time for violence later, should it prove necessary.

"I never said anything about being part of the crew," the stranger said easily, rising to his feet and swinging the spear over his shoulder before glancing down to look Marco dead in the eye. "I'm just here to see Pops."

Marco was about to say that the man had to do better than that when something about the stranger's face made him hesitate and he took second, more assessing look. The man was slightly over eight feet tall with wavy dark blue hair that hung loose past his shoulders, amber eyes, freckles scattered across his nose and cheekbones and a rather wide grin. However it was the slightly hooked nose and massively muscular build that gave Marco pause, along with something ineffable in the shape of the man's face. Could it be…?

"Does he know you're here, yoi?" the phoenix Zoan asked as a sudden suspicion bloomed in the back of his mind.

"Nope." The stranger's cheerfully toothy smirk as he tilted his neck to look over the First Division Commander's head rang all sorts of alarm bells in Marco's mind. Sighing, the blond shrugged.

"Well, I may as well take you over, yoi." He turned and walked back down the deck towards his Pops' cabin, the large stranger ambling behind with his hands hooked over the belts that were slung around his hips.

Pushing the door to his Pops' cabin open, Marco nodded to the nurse before turning his attention to his captain.

"Pops, you've got a guest, yoi."

"Oh?" the massive pirate with the white crescent-shaped moustache turned to look at the blue-haired young man in his twenties who had ambled in after the Zoan. "So who might you be, brat?"

The 'brat' turned to face Whitebeard, swept off his black top hat and bowed politely.

"M'name's Edward D. Spadille, or so my half-sister told me after mother died and she took over raising me," he said, straightening up to look the pirate captain in the eye. "I just came by to introduce m'self, as it seemed the thing to do." He then planted his fists on his hips and waited for a response.

* * *

Spadille had been sitting on deck all morning under Concealment Haki and fretting about how he was going to introduce himself, but when he sensed Marco coming up on deck he decided to just wing it, thinned the veil masking his presence and waited for the First Division Commander to challenge him. Now he was standing in front of his Pops having said his piece he was feeling a bit nervous. What would happen if Whitebeard didn't believe him?

"You're my son?" the old man asked, fixing him with a piercing stare.

"So I was told," Spadille said shortly. "I wouldn't know if it really _was_ you who knocked up my mother, seeing as I wasn't there at the time and she's dead now so I can't ask her. My half-sister said you were our father but she isn't around anymore either so I thought I'd stop by and find out for myself." This was the story he'd decided on, with Tempest being the half-sister who'd raised him to explain the various persistently mer-like habits he'd picked up over the years. She didn't even exist here, so claiming she was dead dealt with that possible loose end.

"Your sister was my daughter also then?"

Spadille smiled softly, remembering Tempest. He missed her terribly, almost as much as he missed Zoro. "Oh yes. She was kick-ass with a bisento, you know. The Marines didn't know what hit them."

"Marines?" Whitebeard asked sharply.

Spadille scowled, folding his arms across his chest. "You know how it is, people find out your father is an infamous pirate and they can't sell you out fast enough," he muttered. "She got me out of there and then went back to buy time so I could escape properly. Never saw her alive again; saw the body though." The story was based on the truth of several different encounters with Marines that he'd had over the years in his own world and the fact that he knew he was never going to see his big sister here, ever. That hurt still.

"I am sorry for your loss," his Pops rumbled quietly.

"Tempest was cool," Spadille said quietly. "Really weird for a mermaid, but that just made her more special. I miss her." He sighed, fiddling with the goggles on his hat as he stared at the floor. "Even though it was years ago now."

There was a short, awkward silence. Spadille broke it.

"Well, now what?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at his Pops. The old pirate laughed.

"Gurararara! You are my son!" he roared cheerfully. "Today is a good day! Will you join my crew, my boy?"

"Thanks but no thanks, Pops," Spadille said with a happy grin. "I'm gonna make it big by myself, just to prove I can. Just you wait a few years and I'll be a Yonko!"

"Who are you planning on replacing, yoi?" Marco asked curiously. Shiki's territory was disintegrating more slowly than anybody else had expected but falling apart nonetheless, making it easier pickings than anywhere else, but there was also Kaido and Big Mom to consider.

Spadille's grin sharpened, giving him a slightly crazy look. "I think I'll flip a coin when the time comes," he informed his audience. "I've got plenty to be getting on with before then."

"Gurararara! I wish you luck!" his Pops chuckled. "What kind of things will you be doing?"

Now for the fun part. "Oh, you know," Spadille said casually, "picking out a good crew, getting them up to scratch, visiting my wife and kids, tracking down my husband, the usual." He grinned. "After all, what's life without family?"

* * *

Spadille was introduced to all of the Whitebeard Pirates currently on board by Whitebeard himself, who then announced they would be celebrating his son's existence for the rest of the afternoon and evening. This news was greeting with cheers, much alcohol was produced and within the hour the blue-haired man was laughing and chatting with the Division Commanders as though he'd known them for years. Spadille was very charming and witty, had an uncanny knack for picking up on things that people found embarrassing and certainly had his Pops' capacity for alcohol: Marco had to wonder if he was even capable of getting drunk after seeing the younger man drink Kingdew under the table and then bounce off to join in the dancing without his feet so much as faltering.

As the party progressed Marco learnt a number of interesting things about Spadille. Firstly that he didn't seem to consider gender to be a particularly significant criterion for choosing potential bed partners, as Marco witnessed his cheerful flirtation with Thatch, a recent addition to the Fourth Division who didn't seem to be able to decide if Spadille was serious or not. Secondly that he was an incorrigible flirt, as right after making Thatch blush and retreat he homed in on a cluster of Pops' nurses and started chatting them all up completely shamelessly.

"I thought you were married, yoi?" Marco asked, coming up behind his new brother as three of the nurses giggled and a fourth blushed.

"My wife has no objections to my picking up beautiful women so long as I share them," Spadille said cheerfully, leaning over to kiss the cheek of the nearest nurse, "which is the same condition I have for her picking up hot men. She's got higher standards than me though so that doesn't happen too often."

"I suppose it's all right for some, yoi," Marco conceded, wondering where on earth Spadille had found a woman that accommodating. Not that he was interested in getting married, but most women expected a long-term partner to be exclusive.

"Hey, I'll have you know that she picked _me_ , not the other way around," Spadille informed him with a smirk, "and marrying her was the smartest thing I ever did. Saved my life too: Precious really doesn't like it when people try to kill me and she's way more dangerous than I am."

"Why is she at home raising the kids then, yoi?"

Spadille gave him a _look_ that suggested the blue-haired man was wondering if the phoenix Zoan had lost his brain somewhere. "Children are important," Whitebeard's son said slowly, enunciating every syllable clearly. "Children need to be protected and nurtured until they are old enough to manage by themselves. So the strongest, smartest, most ruthless parent is the one who needs to raise them, as everything else is secondary to caring for the children." He sighed and pouted before continuing normally: "I miss spending time with my kids but we're not going to be able to hide forever, so I need reliable people to hand for when the Marines finally catch on and an island to house my family on."

"So you're becoming a pirate to protect your family?" one of the nurses asked, leaning into him and fluttering her eyelashes. "That's very sweet."

"Well there isn't much else I could be with Pops being who he is," Spadille pointed out with a wry grin, "so I may as well make the most of it. I do miss my husband though; I'd rest easier knowing he was keeping an eye on the kids as well."

"What happened to him?"

Spadille shrugged. "The three of us had an accident in the Florian Triangle about ten years ago and we haven't seen him since."

"Accident, yoi?" Marco probed curiously. The Florian Triangle was a total mystery. People disappeared there all the time.

Spadille's eyes went distant. "No idea what happened but I found myself on an empty island in Paradise six years later."

"Six _years?_ " Marco repeated in shock.

"Yeah," his newest brother said quietly. "No idea what happened in the between time. My wife wound up in South Blue just four months after the accident and being completely without means of support wound up staying there through the Purges. Hearing about that really scared me." He shivered. "She could have died."

Marco whistled lowly. Spadille's wife had to be something special to have kept herself hidden from all the Marines storming around South Blue in the year after the Pirate King was executed. Some Marines had killed every single woman of child-bearing age and all the children in the range decided by their superiors as a way of being 'thorough'. "So your husband's still missing I take it then, yoi?"

"Yeah," Spadille said sadly. "I miss him something fierce and I think Precious is starting to go a bit crazy as it has been longer to her than it feels like it's been to me. We've been together for so long that managing without feels like being crippled. I can't imagine what it would be like to be all alone without either of them." He shivered again, eyes haunted.

Marco wondered how long the three had known each-other to be so co-dependent; from before even entering their teens, most likely.

"How old are you, yoi?" He asked curiously.

"Er," Spadille's eyes crossed. "Twenty five. I think. At least, I should be twenty-five. Precious is twenty-four." He paused. "Do I look twenty-five?"

"Just about, yoi," Marco agreed, slightly amused. He supposed losing six years of your life could mess with anyone's mind but Spadille certainly didn't look nineteen, so he had at least aged during his Triangle-induced absence.

"That's a relief; my wife still looks seventeen!"

Marco twitched. Lucky bastard.

* * *

Over the following week Spadille hung out with the Division Commanders, chatting, sparring and helping out with various ship-board duties. In that time Marco determined that his brother was a smart, thoughtful and unbelievably strong man who was far more mature and experienced than his age suggested. He also discovered Spadille was slightly narcoleptic, a truly terrible tease and completely and utterly shameless. The latter discovery was made after some bright spark dared him to kiss Jozu, which Spadille promptly went for right then and there. Jozu took it pretty well, but the unfortunate wit who'd dared Spadille to do it had not enjoyed what the Third Division Commander did to him afterwards. Jozu was slowly gaining a reputation for being able to straighten out even the most troublesome of the new recruits the Whitebeard Pirates picked up, making use of creative cruelty, patience, hard work and no small amount of pain.

Sparring against Spadille had been an interesting experience: Marco's newest brother carried a yari and clearly knew how to use it, but when invited to spar by the First Division Commander he put the weapon aside and fought with his fists. The phoenix Zoan found out the hard way that Spadille was a master at using both Busoshoku and Kenbunshoku haki in combat, smoothly pre-empting attacks and landing devastatingly powerful hits that would have put the First Division Commander in the infirmary had he not been able to both use haki himself and regenerate damage with his Devil Fruit Ability. Spadille's combat style was a mix of instinctive brawling, Fishman Karate and at least three other styles Marco didn't recognise, but the blue-haired man shifted from one form to the next with the ease of long familiarity. He also grinned the whole time, which suggested he wasn't fighting all out. Marco couldn't bring himself to be offended; he wasn't fighting all-out either and he'd enjoyed the spar despite the damage he'd taken.

When Vista had asked for a spar too Spadille had picked up his long spear, twirled it between his hands and then demonstrated how superior reach can be used to thwart a highly experienced swordsman even if that swordsman was slightly quicker on his feet. Spadille finally ended the fight by catching both of Vista's blades with the sharp end of the spear, side-stepping and spinning the shaft to catch the Fifth Division Commander across the side of the head. The speed of the blow made Vista stagger and by the time he recovered Spadille had his spear-point resting in the hollow of the other man's throat.

"Yield," Spadille suggested.

"I yield," Vista said agreeably. "You're very good at fighting swordsmen."

"My husband is a swordsman," Spadille replied, "and I've yet to meet a better one."

"Well, when you find him again bring him around so I can fight him too," Vista said, taking his defeat with aplomb.

"I will do," Spadille promised, holding out a hand. "Good fight."

Vista shook it. "Is your spear blade made of Sea Stone?" he then asked. "It has a certain sheen."

Spadille smiled. "The blade and the final two feet of the shaft are both Sea Stone," he admitted, "but the rest is Adam Wood."

Vista whistled. "Very effective against Devil Fruit Users I imagine."

Spadille's grin was not remotely reassuring. "I _love_ surprising people," he purred wickedly, spinning the long polearm like it weighed nothing at all, "and nothing surprises a Devil Fruit User like twenty inches of Kairoseki through a vital organ. Logias are the best: they think they're untouchable even while they're bleeding out on the ground."

"You don't like Devil Fruit Users, yoi?" Marco inquired carefully.

"I've got nothing against them," Spadille said lightly, "but the arrogance of some of them is mightily tiring. And they're generally so _lazy_ , too, thinking that because they've got a special trick they don't need to work at winning. To properly be considered a master of _anything_ takes research, practice, hard work, ingenuity and finesse. Most Devil Fruit Users wouldn't recognise finesse if it danced in front of them naked waving a flag."

Marco chuckled at the mental image that conjured up. "I'd have to agree with you," He confessed, "as most Fruit Users do seem to go for brute force over strategy. Even among Pops' crew, yoi."

"Sometimes I wonder if there's something in Devil Fruit that destroys peoples' common sense," Spadille grumbled good-naturedly, "but then I remember that arrogance is a universal human condition."

"Who taught you Fishman Karate?" Namur asked abruptly.

Spadille turned to look at him. "My sister and my wife," he said evenly. "Well, my sister taught me a little of merman combat that can be made to work for people with legs but there isn't all that much of a difference."

"Who taught your wife?"

The blue-haired man shrugged. "One of her sensei I believe. She was trained from an early age in all manner of things and only passed a few of them on."

"What does your wife do?" Blenheim asked.

"You mean, what did she do before I married her and she started raising our kids?" Spadille clarified.

"Yes."

"She was a child assassin."

"What?!" All five Division Commanders present exclaimed.

Spadille shrugged. "By the time I met her she'd had four years of intensive training and nearly that long again of part-time training alongside taking contracts and I knew her for nearly three years more before she married me. I love her to pieces but for the longest time death really was all she knew. It makes her a bit odd sometimes but everyone's got issues."

Marco calculated that – _if_ Spadille had married his wife when she was fourteen as his various hints suggested– he'd likely met her at eleven, so she'd been killing people since she was seven and in training from the age of three. That painted a rather frightening picture considering Spadille was perfectly open about his wife being more capable in combat than he was.

"But she's sane, yoi," the phoenix Zoan determined, hoping it didn't sound too much like a question.

"Very much so: her shishou was very careful to ensure she kept a relatively healthy emotional balance," Spadille reassured him. "She's surprisingly normal and well-adjusted considering and is perfectly happy with not killing people if it can possibly be avoided."

Well that sounded much, much better than how the rumoured CP9 were supposed to be.

"Will we meet her?" Jozu asked.

Spadille shrugged. "Probably not for years yet. The kids are still too young to be left alone for any amount of time."

The conversation then moved to lighter things and when Spadille vanished a few days later Marco was left rather looking forward to his next visit.

* * *

Long Tew, bastard child of a noblewoman and a slave, raised amongst wealth and hardship to serve his better-born siblings, lay on his back on the deck of the Morning Glory and panted harshly, his sword loosely gripped in one fist. His new captain was a much kinder man than his former one had been and much more interested in the lives of his crew, but right now the swordsman wasn't in the mood to appreciate that. The newly returned Spadille had just taken him apart in a spar and then made him pick up his rapier and try again. And again. And again. Then as he'd tired his form had started to suffer and his captain had taken to just dodging and whacking him with the butt of his spear every time he left an opening. He was black and blue, his lungs were on fire and his muscles ached like never before. He felt the deck vibrate slightly as his captain walked over to stand next to him.

"So what have we learned?" Spadille asked brightly, leaning on his spear and tilting his head down so the exhausted swordsman could see his face clearly.

"You are a monster," Tew panted, "and a much better fighter than I am."

"True," his captain conceded judiciously with startlingly little arrogance, "but not what I was hoping for. You are a speed swordsman rather than a power type Tew, and while you aren't very fast at the moment you may well get faster. Faster than me, even. But you play around, you tease and feign and that gives me time to watch, defend and plan a counter-attack. If you'd gone straight for the kill you might have landed a hit."

Tew considered it. It was true that he liked to get a feel for his opponents before attacking properly, but what his captain was saying was that it also gave his opponents time to get a feel for _him_. This, if they were stronger than him, could be fatal. "So I need to be more decisive?" he managed, his brain already gnawing at the problem and how it could be solved.

"Exactly," Spadille beamed. "Of course you also need more speed and stamina and experience, but those will come with training. Changing your style to fight more decisively can only be achieved within your own mind and heart." He chuckled. "At least you have good form to begin with. I had so many bad habits when I started learning with this," he patted his spear, "that my teachers despaired of me some days."

"Sir," Tew groaned as he levered himself into a sitting position.

"Go take a bath," his captain advised him kindly, "then stretch and practice forms for a few hours so your muscles don't cramp. Sagi, your turn."

As Tew stumbled off belowdecks he saw the Longlegs woman launch a barrage of kicks at their captain, who had set his spear aside and was fending her off with his bare hands and no obvious difficulty. Yep, his new captain really was a monster.

* * *

Alvel, the Fourth Division Commander, watched in quiet amusement as Spadille neatly wrong-footed Marco _again_. Their captain's only biological son did this to all the Division Commanders and quite a few of the crew as well, but it was always funny watching Marco fall for his tricks because until Spadille had shown up nobody had ever teased Marco like that. Or Jozu for that matter, but the Third Division Commander managed to fend off his new brother with greater aplomb and dignity than Marco ever achieved. Not that Spadille was deliberately cruel or truly unpleasant; he just seemed to get a kick out of needling Marco into losing his composure even for just a fraction of a second. The blue-haired man had corrupted one of Alvel's own Division to his cause and Thatch had taken to chatting to Marco and the rest of the Commanders even when Spadille wasn't there. None of them minded in the slightest: Thatch might have been a relative newbie but he was smart, very skilled and easy to get along with. Unlike Spadille he didn't feel the need to tease in every single spare moment and he was charismatic enough that Alvel was thinking of recommending him for Division Commander the next time Whitebeard decided to expand their ranks.

Initially Spadille had seemed like a friendly, polite and charming guy, but familiarity bred contempt and Alvel now knew that his brother was a reckless and wicked tease with a very nasty temper hidden under his usual cheer. He was capable of being serious and responsible but he preferred not to be, poking at the self-important dignity and narrow-mindedness of people like Zymon the Second Division Commander, who was a bit of a stick-in-the-mud for a pirate and had trouble dealing with Spadille's equal-opportunity flirting.

Alvel knew Spadille wasn't seriously interested in most of the people he teased, complemented, charmed and flustered: his new brother was just a very tactile and social person who either disregarded or had somehow failed to acquire a normal understanding of other peoples' boundaries. He was also very open about all kinds of things that people generally weren't, like if he thought you looked good today. A lot of it wasn't even intended as flirtation, leading Alvel to believe Spadille had not had a remotely conventional upbringing. The way he touched the people around him without even noticing was definitely a massive clue, as was his frank, honest appreciation of other peoples' skills and physical beauty, his total lack of body modesty and willingness to take people as they were regardless of their appearance. In fact, he didn't even seem to notice that some people –even on the crew– found Blenheim's size a bit intimidating, or were slightly put off by Namur being a Shark fishman. To Spadille they were all just people, which made him just like his father really: Whitebeard had welcomed them all into his family without hesitation after all.

* * *

Balis shifted his foot back in line as his captain tapped his calf with the butt end of his spear, slightly embarrassed at having misjudged his stance again and determined to do better. Captain Spadille didn't think his being big or a fishman meant he was stupid or vicious: Balis got the same treatment everybody else on board did, tailored slightly for his size and skill-set. His captain was teaching him Fishman Karate because it was his heritage, but Balis was also learning lots of other things because his captain talked to him about other things while he was practicing different blows, blocks and stances. Things like the various types of islands on the Grand Line, how Log Poses worked, all the various different roles found on board ship and why they were important. His captain wanted him to be able to choose what he wanted to do with his life rather than just go along with what other people had told him to do.

The wotan was working very hard at learning Fishman Karate because he knew how powerful the style was and he didn't want to be a liability to his captain. He was also thinking hard about all the things his captain had shared about giants and fishmen in general in the past weeks and months and was gradually working out how he felt about some of them. He was also learning lots of new words because Spadille didn't talk down to him, yet was willing to explain anything Balis asked about. It was a good experience: the wotan was happy with his new life.

* * *

Kobold loved his new guns and loved practicing with them so he could learn how to reload quickly and smoothly. What he didn't love were his lessons with Albatross, the ship's Log-keeper, who had been ordered to teach him reading, writing, mathematics and a host of other things that just didn't seem important. But his captain had ordered him to learn as well as ordering Alba-san to teach, so Kobold was trying. It was difficult but at least Alba-san didn't call him stupid or shout at him when he made mistakes.

The pistachio-skinned boy was also learning a bit about Albatross herself, which was actually interesting because she'd joined Spadille when she was thirteen and she was going to be eighteen in a few more months. When he worked hard or wanted to know why he needed to know something or other Alba-san would sometimes tell him about a thing Spadille had done that he couldn't have managed without knowing the stuff Alba-san was teaching. Kobold wanted to say he would never do any of that stuff, but being _able_ to if he _wanted_ to would be rather cool so he knuckled down and tried. Alba-san didn't make him write out the answers to her questions or insult him when he had trouble holding the brush properly, which made her way better than the other people who'd tried to teach him stuff.

The subjects that interested Kobold the most were geometry, physics and meteorology, because knowing them would make him a better sniper. They weren't easy but he could see for himself how useful they'd be so worked hard at them. Being able to read the books the captain had on those subjects properly did make finding useful stuff much easier, not that he'd ever admit it. Alba-san would smile her knowing smile that said she was laughing on the inside if he did. Well, even more than usual: she often smiled like that.


	5. Choice

**Choice**

Fox wasn't actually in the village when the pirate ship docked: Blaze had mentioned that there were mountain bandits in the forest between Fuusha and Goa again, so Fox had left Luffy and Orchis with Makino for the day and gone hunting. She'd been picking off the bandit population for as long as she'd been living on the island, since settling down to raise a family did not make the urge to kill potential threats go away; quite the contrary in fact. Spadille helped when he was here, but generally Fox went hunting twice or three times a year and took out a gang each time. So it wasn't until she was coming home and was several miles outside the village that she noticed the unexpected yet familiar life-signs clustered around Party's Bar –distinguishable by Makino's presence– and quickened her pace drastically. The older two probably weren't home yet and she didn't want Shanks to see them at all until she'd told them a few very important things and they'd decided what they wanted to do about them.

* * *

Shanks was rather enjoying himself. He'd recently been declared one of the top four pirates on the Grand Line, a Yonko, so he had decided to celebrate by taking some time off with his crew to kick back and relax somewhere restful. Thinking of restful places had led him to consider East Blue: nobody would look for Red-Hair Shanks _there_. Of course, he was also just a little bit interested to see if he ran into the pretty blonde with the long hair again as he had a few questions he wanted to ask her. If she was related to Hawk-Eyes for one; seeing those golden eyes glaring at him from the face of the swordsman who'd later become a favourite rival had been a shock, so much so that after the fight he's asked the man if he had a sister. Of course Mihawk had taken it the wrong way, but he'd managed to clear things up eventually and the World's Strongest Swordsman was now just as curious as Shanks was.

"I want to be a pirate!"

Well, finding pretty Fox was a bit of a long shot, but this particular backwater village came with its own entertainment: an overly enthusiastic six-year-old with dreams bigger than he was and his truly adorable younger sibling. Luffy was very, very fun to tease; his plum-haired and plum-eyed little sister who the bartender addressed as 'Orchis' seemed to find it funny too, giggling behind her hands and sneaking peeks at Shanks over the top of the bar.

"You can't even swim!" the infamous pirate captain teased the boy. "Whoever heard of a pirate that couldn't swim?"

"Whitebeard can't swim," said a shockingly familiar female voice from right behind him, startling him out of his chair to tumble on the floor.

"Mum!" shouted the two children as Shanks shoved his hat back from where it had slipped over his face and leaned back to get a better look.

It was indeed Fox, almost exactly as he remembered her from Loguetown ten years previously. The same ridiculously long golden hair, the same raptorial eyes and aristocratically fine-boned face. She was a bit more filled-out than he remembered though and there was something about her face that bothered him. It wasn't the resemblance to Hawk-Eyes; that was fairly obvious. There was something else there…

"Mum! Shanks is a pirate! Can I be a pirate pleeease?" Luffy begged, hanging onto his mother's indigo hakama as she lifted Orchis up to rest on her hip. Shanks was impressed: children were heavier than they looked. Then again, Fox was _strong_. Strong enough that he'd almost asked her to join his crew and come pirating with him. Well, _would_ have asked her if he hadn't been so distracted at the time. Her clothing had been very indecent in the rain and then later on clothing hadn't really been much of a concern at all. He'd also been a teenager back then and much more distractible.

"You haven't finished learning everything I can teach you yet Luffy," Fox told the six-year-old with a fond smile. "How can you be a successful pirate if you can't even beat your mother in a fight?"

This got a round of laughs from Shanks' crew but Shanks didn't laugh, instead setting his stool upright again and sitting back down on it. Fox was very, very strong indeed; stronger than most of his crew, in fact. He could tell just by the way she moved, the way she felt and the way she had dismissed everyone in the room except Beckman and Shanks himself as threats.

"But Mum! You're really strong!" Luffy whined. "I bet Shanks couldn't beat you either!"

"Shanks is too much of a gentleman to fight me," Fox said firmly, squashing the idea before it could get anywhere. A shame; he'd have liked an excuse to spar against her. "What time did I say I wanted you back home Luffy?"

"Four o'clock!"

"What time is it now?"

Luffy looked at the clock in the bar. "Half-past five!" he paused. "I'm late! Sorry Mum!"

"I was very worried to get home and find you weren't there," Fox said seriously to the boy who was apparently her son. "Especially since Orchis was with you. It's her bedtime soon and she hasn't had dinner yet."

Luffy looked horrified. "We missed dinner?"

"Well if you run home there might be some left, but your brothers looked _really_ hungry," Fox said teasingly. Luffy was out of the bar in seconds, shouting about food and how his brothers had better leave some for him.

Fox sighed. "Thanks for keeping an eye on them both, Makino," she said to the pretty barkeep. "As for you," she gave Shanks the universal female _look_ that indicated he was in some kind of trouble, "don't go far." She swept out of the bar, the sleepy four-year-old balanced on her hip not hindering her at all.

"Somehow I don't think she's happy about you filling her kid's mind with dreams of becoming a pirate," Benn Beckman said laconically, lighting a cigarette.

Shanks was more concerned with how she'd got the drop on him and trying to work out why he had a niggling feeling she'd been armed when he hadn't seen any weapons.

"So that was Luffy's mother, huh?" he asked the barkeep, Makino her name had been. The young woman smiled.

"Well, there's a complicated story to tell."

"A story?" Shanks perked up. Stories were always good.

"Fox is technically Luffy's aunt; his father's sister," Makino began, "but his mother died when he was born so his father asked Fox to look after him and she's been doing just that ever since. She's got three other kids: older twin boys and little Orchis. Her husband visits sometimes, but mostly it's just the five of them living up in the family home."

"So Fox is a local girl then?" He asked; that didn't sound right considering what she'd told him.

Makino chuckled. "Goodness me no! Garp brought her here nine years ago and introduced her as his daughter! What a scandal that was!" The barkeep shook her head. "It turned out he meant his adopted daughter, but you know how people talk. She already had the twins then, just three months old. Her husband didn't show up for another four years so for the longest time some people thought she wasn't actually married. Did they get a surprise!" A definite snicker this time, however ladylike. "He's eight feet tall and massive to match. Treats Fox like a queen, does Spadille. Lovely man. Very polite. The boys all adore him."

Shanks thought that Fox was a person who really deserved to find herself a man like that. She'd been so painfully alone when he'd spoken to her in the rain that he'd just wanted to help her feel better and he liked to think that he'd managed to do that, but kissing her goodbye the next morning had been bittersweet. He'd promised not to forget her though, which she'd thanked him for. At least he'd kept that promise; maybe she wouldn't be too cross with him after all for filling her son's head with dreams of piracy? It wasn't like he hadn't told her he was a pirate.

Considering the timing, she must have met this Spadille right after leaving Loguetown. That was good: she hadn't been lonely for very long then.

Wait… "Garp? Monkey D. Garp?" He wanted to ask, Garp the Fist, but that was the name pirates called him.

"Yes: Luffy's full name is Monkey D. Luffy," Makino said as she cleaned a glass. "Garp calls Fox daughter but she hasn't taken his name; I suppose she goes by her husband's."

Garp the Fist was that little pipsqueak's grandfather. Oh well, that might explain why Fox was so upset about him showing up here. And she had three kids of her own? Including twin boys? She really was hard as nails; to have managed to go from completely alone to happily married with kids showed impressive mental strength and he knew she was good in a fight. It really was a shame he hadn't asked her to join his crew back then.

* * *

Once Luffy and Orchis were in bed Fox sat down in the library –as the room gradually being taken over by books had eventually been designated– with Ace and Blaze for what promised to be a very difficult talk.

"I've decided it's time to tell you both about your parents," she said once both boys had settled on cushions, "because the pirate who showed up today is going to see you both sooner or later and when he does he's going to ask questions, so I'd rather you both know now rather than have it come as a surprise. But this information is very dangerous; you are not to tell _anybody_ unless I give you my permission. Understood?"

Both boys nodded.

"Good. Ace, your mother's name was Portgas D. Rouge. She was a good friend of mine and helped me out of a very difficult situation. However she was very ill when you were born and died. It had nothing to do with you; she was dying anyway by then. She asked me to raise you as my own son so I did. Your father was Gol D. Roger."

Ace gaped. "The Pirate King? The Gol D. Roger in your book of tales?"

Fox nodded. "Those are true stories: he told them to me himself. I only knew him for a few months but he was a good person, though very energetic and with a dreadful temper. You inherited that temper and some of his looks but otherwise you generally remind me of your mother."

Ace didn't seem to mind being told that. Good. Now for the hard part.

"Blaze, you are my child by blood, but as you have guessed my husband Spadille is not your birth father. My other husband isn't either; he's still missing. Your father I met at Roger's execution, which I attended on Rouge's behalf. His name is Shanks and he is the captain of the pirates who arrived today."

Her son blinked.

"You don't have to say anything or do anything about it if you don't want to," Fox said, "but he is a good man and a very dangerous pirate. I think he would be delighted to have you as his son once he got over the shock but that it is a good idea to keep it between us if at all possible. He does have enemies and the World Government will come after us if they hear even the faintest rumour of who we are related to."

"We, Mum?" Blaze asked. He was sharp enough to pick up on the rare cues Fox sometimes dropped about her past and always asked about them.

Fox smiled. "My father is Silvers Rayleigh," she said wryly, "so I'm as much at risk of being hunted down as the two of you are. That's why I never tell anyone my surname."

Ace and Blaze both nodded seriously, their faces indicating deep thoughts.

"Now I think both of you should go to bed and sleep on it. Decisions can wait until the morning at least."

Blaze and Ace were very quiet for the entire next week after finding out about their heritage, sticking close to the house and sparring furiously in the back yard when they weren't scouring Fox' books for mentions of the Roger Pirates or the newspapers she had piled up in the attic for articles about 'Red-Hair' Shanks. Fox had a _lot_ of newspapers as Makino let her have the bar's copy once the next one came in by news coo. Being out of her own time and in a slightly different reality made Fox sensitive to the differences in her surroundings and had instilled in her a driving need for information. The many similarities between the two worlds could easily inspire complacency which would inevitably lead to mistakes should various minor events that were taken for granted did not happen. The newspapers weren't the half of it: the information network was up and running in all four Blues now and her contacts in the Grand Line were gradually spreading their influence even without her help. A lot of what they sent her was junk, but there were useful nuggets hidden in the trash. Most of what she heard she sold on but some of it went no further than her writing desk and was packed away in a sea chest for safekeeping.

Dragon hadn't quite sold her his soul for the information Spadille had stolen from Marine Headquarters, but he might have done if she'd asked him for it. He probably _would_ have given her his firstborn if she didn't already have Luffy doing his best to eat her out of house and home. As it was she had a number of very respectable favours stored up for when she needed them and gained a number of guarantees, one of which was that Dragon actually had to _visit_ them _every_ year. He'd managed to keep that promise thus far and both Blaze and Ace got on reasonably well with their 'Uncle Dragon', though Luffy was more interested in running around and playing than having boring grown-up talk with the quiet man he only remembered seeing twice and who barely registered in the grand scheme of things. The round-faced and energetic little boy was only interested in food, sparring and things that would make him into an awesome pirate. He had been told that Dragon was his father –several times even– but the information seemed to go in one ear and out the other.

Fox spent the week doing normal and necessary things like teaching Luffy, training viciously with him so he could find his Observation haki –he didn't have the patience for the exercises she'd learnt as a child and had the older boys do– teaching and playing with Orchis, cooking, cleaning, gardening, reading and replying to letters, sewing and all the other various little jobs that had to be done. At least she didn't have to hunt anymore: Ace and Blaze brought a dead animal back to the house most days and were gradually learning how to dress and skin their kills themselves, but Fox still did most of the messy work as although Ace had the strength for it he didn't have the reach just yet. She had decided to let Shanks stew until either the pirate came to find out for himself what she wanted or her boys came to a decision.

Eight days after being told about their parentage both boys stuck around after dinner rather than dashing off to spar until it got dark. Fox had them help her carry the dishes back into the kitchen then handed them both tea towels and started the washing up.

"Can we still be twins even though we aren't even proper brothers?" Ace asked tentatively.

Fox handed him a plate to dry. "Of course you can. You are both my sons and I raised you both together from right after you were born, Ace. Nothing you do will ever change how I feel about you."

"Not even if I do something terrible?"

"Well I'd be very unhappy if you did something terrible but I wouldn't love you any less." She hadn't loved any of her older children any less for the things they'd done and some of them had done seriously foolish or deeply unpleasant things. Spadille's eldest slaughtering the entire population of an island because he didn't like a number of their cultural practices, for instance. Mass-murder was a definite overreaction to systematic pederasty, especially since he'd killed all the children as well.

Ace nodded, drying the plate and setting it aside so he could pick up another one.

"I want Shanks to know I'm his son," Blaze said, picking up the conversation smoothly from where Ace had left off, "but we don't know how to explain Ace since he isn't Shanks' son and we're the same age."

"I can explain it to him without letting him know anything that could endanger you, Ace," Fox said calmly. "Would you like me to tell Shanks, Blaze?"

"Please Mummy?" Neither of the twins had called her 'Mummy' since they were seven.

"Very well; I'll see to it as soon as he gets back." Shanks had taken his crew out pirating three days after meeting Fox in the bar, possibly to distract the Yonko from the vague sense of impending doom hanging over his head due to her informing him that they needed to 'talk'.

Both boys hugged her around the middle briefly before returning their attention to drying the dishes.

"How did you meet Shanks Mum?" Ace asked.

"I was at Roger's execution," Fox told them as she bent over the sink, elbow deep in soapsuds and hot water, "and afterwards I was cornered by a group of thugs trying to rob me. I beat them all of course, but while I was fighting Shanks saw what was happening and helped me knock them all out. Then he introduced himself, we chatted a bit and he offered to buy me a drink." She smiled slyly down at both boys over her shoulder. "I don't think you two are quite old enough for the rest of _that_ story, but we parted ways the next morning and I never saw him again until he turned up here last week."

"Was this before you met dad?" Blaze asked.

"No: I was already married to Spadille at that point but we'd been separated and I thought he might have died. Part of why I attended the execution was in the hope of meeting him there," Fox explained, "but he didn't show up. I did know however that Spadille would have wanted me to do things that made me happy, which is why I agreed to spend time with Shanks. It is also why I never had any doubts that Spadille would accept you both."

"Does Shanks still make you happy?" Ace inquired.

"I'd like to be able to consider him a friend," Fox admitted, "but I am never going to leave Spadille for anyone. Nobody completes me like him and Zoro do."

"Who's Zoro?"

Fox couldn't believe she'd never mentioned Zoro, though she knew she'd told her boys Spadille wasn't her only husband. That it had taken her this long to tell them about him suggested she had been repressing the pain caused by his absence a little too hard and it was starting to leak out through the cracks.

"Zoro's my other husband, Spadille's partner. He's missing like Spadille was, but I believe he _will_ show up sooner or later," she said firmly, a tear trickling down her cheek as a pang of bitter loss shook her. Not having Zoro there was like being at least one limb short of a full set and coping in his absence was difficult. Spadille missed him too, just as badly as she did but in different ways. The reticent green-haired swordsman had always been their anchor and guiding light.

"Mum?" Blaze gazed up at her worriedly.

I'm fine," Fox said firmly, wiping away the tear, "just tired."

"We can finish doing the washing up," Ace offered, looking slightly worried by her brief lapse into grief. "There're just the saucepans left now so it won't matter if we drop them by accident."

"Then I will put Orchis to bed and go retrieve Luffy," Fox said, removing her apron and getting a smaller one down from a hook to put on Ace to prevent him from getting too wet. "Thank-you for being so helpful, both of you."

"You're our _mother_ ," Blaze said firmly, "and Dad asked us to look after you."

Fox kissed each boy on the cheek before leaving in search of her daughter. Tellingly, neither protested.

* * *

Shanks didn't come back to Fuusha for another five days, time Fox made good use of to clean and tidy the house, get Luffy to the point he was capable of occasionally using his Colour of Observation –consistency would come in time– start Orchis on proper combat stances rather than just flexibility and strength exercises and start teaching the twins about a new haki Colour. Both were sufficiently competent in both Observation and Armament that improvement could only come from within, so Fox started them on things she believed they would find useful. Blaze, who was best with Observation Haki, was given the basis of the Colour of Concealment and she started teaching Ace about the Colour of Offense.

The Colour of Concealment was about projecting your Will to get other people to overlook you, making their eyes pass over you and forget you were there. Blaze was quiet, stealthy and very good at eavesdropping even without haki, so Fox was confident it wouldn't take him long to get the hang of what she was teaching him. The Colour of Offense on the other hand was about projecting Armament Haki beyond the confines of the body in rapid bursts. These high-speed fluctuations created shockwaves, which when properly focused and controlled added devastating force to punches. The Colour of Offense was a fairly recent discovery for Fox: she'd been projecting her Armament Haki beyond her body for decades and had good enough control to vary the size of the projection at high speed, but only in the past five years while training to recover and increase her edge had she noticed the shockwaves created if those fluctuations were fast and precise enough. Ace was a brawler to the bone and anything that would help him hit harder would be eagerly assimilated.

Fox really hoped Ace would not be tempted into eating Devil Fruit: while his narcolepsy was not yet as severe as her Hothead's had become by the time he was fully adult and she was doing her best to ensure he ate healthily and slept properly, he was already nodding off from time to time and Spadille had warned her it would only get worse as he grew. It was dangerous enough being a pirate even without randomly falling asleep, but randomly falling asleep when dropping into the sea would kill you was another matter entirely. Her Hothead had certainly had the Devil's own luck to survive as long as he did and she didn't want this Ace to have to rely on so chancy and fickle a thing for survival. Teaching him to use and manipulate haki would hopefully make the prospect of Devil Fruit less tempting and while she had thus far been unable to teach any of her children to swim she intended to ensure they _did_ learn and _soon_.

Maybe Shanks would be willing to teach them. Or possibly Benn Beckman: the Red-Hair Pirates' first mate was a kind and responsible man with more patience than most saints, though Fox couldn't vouch for his sanity as anybody willing to follow Shanks' lead definitely had a screw loose _somewhere_. He did however remind her of Zoro, which right now was more than a little confusing considering how strongly she missed her green-haired husband.

She sensed Shanks' return a few days later, so first thing the following morning Fox addressed all four children over breakfast:

"Blaze, Ace, I'd like you to go up to the meadow by the river and wait for us there."

"Mum?" both boys asked in unison, tilting their faces up to look at her curiously with such perfect synchrony that Fox was reminded of why everyone in Fuusha was so convinced they were twins. That she had always acted as though the boys were twins was one thing; that two boys who were not related by blood had managed to convince everyone that they really _were_ twins was quite another.

"I'm going to ask Benn Beckman to help me teach you all to swim and the river by the meadow is the best place," Fox explained, her plan having properly come together by this point. She grinned mischievously; "Shanks will probably invite himself along when he hears about it, so everything should work out."

"We're going to learn to swim?" Ace looked delighted. "Finally!" He slipped out of his seat and quickly carried his plate into the kitchen, Blaze right behind him.

"Yes, so make sure you're there!" Fox reminded them as Luffy finished inhaling his breakfast and started paying attention to his surroundings again. "Luffy?"

"Yes Mum?"

"Can you go down to the bar and, if Shanks is there, tell him I'll be down in a little to talk to him?"

"Shanks is back?!" Luffy whooped in delight, bouncing out of his chair. "I'll go find him!" he dashed out of the house.

Fox chuckled. Shanks had got back the previous evening and had spent the entire night drinking. Setting Luffy on him at barely an hour past dawn was rather cruel, but it was also funny. Still chuckling she dealt with the dishes, packed a bag with towels and food, made sure her two swords were secured at her right hip then took her daughter by the hand and walked down into the village towards Party's bar.

* * *

"Shanks! Shanks!"

The Yonko groaned, eyes screwed shut and a hand cradling his aching head. He'd been drinking and making merry with his crew for the entire night and it felt like had just conked out on the bar and passed out when 'Anchor' –as he had recently dubbed Luffy– woke him up with enthusiastic shouting that went right through his head. It felt like he was being repeatedly stabbed in the temple.

"..ming to talk to you!" the six-year-old nattered enthusiastically. "Wake up!"

"Eh?" Shanks cracked an eye open to squint down at the brat, who was vibrating with sheer delight. "What did you say?"

Luffy scowled adorably. "I _said_ : Mum is coming to talk to you!"

"Now?!" Shanks started upright and clutched his skull again. Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow! "My head…" he whimpered as around him groans and grumbles alerted him that at least he wasn't the only person suffering.

"Yeah!" How could _anybody_ be that cheerful this early in the day? It was unnatural, damn it! "She knew that you'd come back so she told me to make sure you were here!"

It had been over two weeks since Fox had told him to stick around with that look in her eye that promised a _talk_ , but the delay had lulled him into a false sense of security. Now however he was tired, hung-over and could feel what remaining wits he had deserting him the face of immanent female displeasure. Talk about a nasty trap. "Ah," he managed as Beckman got to his feet and lit a cigarette, looking disgracefully sober and collected considering the night they'd had.

"You did know this was coming, captain," his first mate reminded him mildly.

"I thought she'd forgotten," Shanks said weakly.

Luffy stared at him. "Mum never forgets _anything_ ," the six-year-old informed the infamous pirate matter-of-factly. "And she knows _everything_. Why does she want to talk to you?"

"I don't know," Shanks said, straightening his hat. "I suppose we'll have to find out, won't we Anchor?"

"Hey, don't call me Anchor!" Luffy shouted, making Shanks cringe at the volume. Maybe teasing the kid hadn't been such a good idea after all.

"Captain?" Shanks turned to look at the now open front door of the bar to see Fox standing silhouetted against the early morning light, her impossibly long braids hanging almost to her knees in long double loops. "I see Luffy found you."

"Yeah," the hung-over pirate agreed dryly as the gorgeous blonde strode into the room, hips swaying at every step. "He's a regular alarm clock, is Anchor." Gods above help him but Fox was as tempting today as she had been that rainy afternoon in Loguetown. More so even: she had a wicked twinkle in her eye and a bounce in her step that made her even sexier. The Yonko reminded himself that she was _married_ now and therefore off-limits. He might be a pirate but that didn't mean he was the type to seduce married women. Bad things happened to men who did that, usually in the form of irate husbands. Not that Shanks had ever experienced it for himself, but it was one of the things Master Rayleigh had warned him about back when he was younger.

"Good!" That sweet smile could not possibly mean anything good. "I'd like to borrow your first mate, if I may."

"What." Of all the things he'd been expecting –fearing– she was going to say, that had not been on the list.

"I need to teach my kids to swim," Fox explained brightly, that sweet smile firmly in place as her eyes shone with mischief, "and as Benn-san seems to be the most responsible member of your crew I'd like to enlist his assistance in keeping my boys in line. Teaching four children to swim all at once is a bit of a stretch for one women, don't you think?"

Shanks tried to picture this. Fox, waist-deep in water, teaching Anchor and cute little Orchis to swim, her clothes clinging to her body to reveal every curve and Beckman getting a free show. "Why should I?" He whined, his headache thumping in his temples.

Fox grinned. "I can make your head stop hurting," she informed him in teasing sing-song tones.

Shanks brightened instantly. "Deal."

Fox vaulted neatly over the bar in a flurry of indigo fabric and golden braids, walked into the kitchen and came back with a large glass of water. "Drink up captain," she told him, setting it in front of him.

Shanks gave her a flat look. "Water?"

Fox raised an eyebrow. "I can't do anything for you if you don't rehydrate a bit," she informed him tartly.

"Oh all right then; cheers." He downed the glass. Fox then leaned over the bar, touched her fingers to his temples and in seconds the pain melted away to nothing. Leaning back, the blonde folded her arms across her stomach and smirked at him.

"Well, captain?"

"You are a goddess!" Shanks exclaimed fervently. "How did you do that?"

She dipped her chin and peeked at him sideways through long lashes, mischief shining in gold eyes. "Secret. Now can I borrow Benn-san for the day?"

"Sure, go ahead!" Shanks said cheerfully, his mind working much better now he was no longer in pain. What she'd done had to have been something Devil Fruit related: no medicine in the world worked like that.

"Thanks!" Fox vaulted back over the bar, stepped closer to Beckman then ducked her shoulder forwards into his hip, slinging the startled first mate over her shoulder and darting out of the door, carrying the much taller man easily. There was a beat of shocked silence as everyone conscious enough to pay attention gaped in disbelief.

"Mum's so cool!" Luffy shouted, dashing out after the exuberant blonde and her hostage.

Shanks burst out laughing. "Dahahahahaha! Did you see that?! Beckman got abducted by a pretty lady!"

The rest of his crew roared with laughter alongside him.

* * *

After Shanks had finished laughing and Makino had served breakfast the Yonko remembered _why_ Fox had wanted to borrow Beckman and abruptly decided to crash the party. After all if she was teaching Anchor to swim he had limited teasing time left and needed to make the most of it. Besides, if Fox was indeed a Devil Fruit User she wouldn't be able to get very far into the water without collapsing, so having somebody else there was probably a good idea.

"I'm going to go make the most of what time I have left before Anchor stops being an anchor," he cheerfully informed Lucky Roo and Yassop as he finished the food the pretty barkeep had brought him. "Keep an eye on everyone until we get back, will you?"

"Are you sure you're not going to ogle Fox, captain?" Yassop asked dryly, raising a sceptical eyebrow.

Shanks frowned at the sniper who had only joined his crew six weeks previously. "She's married," he said flatly. "I may be a pirate but it doesn't make me _that_ kind of man."

"Sorry captain."

"Good." Shanks strode off, using Kenbunshoku Haki to pinpoint his first mate's location and the direction he was headed in. Fox wasn't carrying him anymore but they were travelling at quite a fast pace for people accompanied by small children. Ah: Fox was carrying Orchis and Beckman was carrying Anchor. That explained it. Grinning cheerfully he set off after them; it wouldn't take him long to catch up.

"Hello again captain," Fox said just as Shanks came up behind her, confirming the pirate's suspicion that she too could use Kenbunshoku haki. To Shanks' own Colour of Observation Fox appeared slightly fuzzy, as though out of tune with the rest of the world. It made it hard to gauge her strength but every now and then he caught a glimpse and that glimpse was enough to confirm she had probably been the strongest person in East Blue until he decided to come here for his little holiday. Which was kinda odd really, as why would somebody _that_ strong decide to raise their kids here? Well, Garp probably hadn't taken no for an answer when he adopted her, so her being in Fuusha was probably his doing, but _why_ had 'Garp the Fist' decided that he wanted Fox as his daughter? It just didn't make sense.

"I realised that since Anchor is going to be learning to swim I wouldn't be able to call him that for much longer so I came along to make the most of the opportunity," he said brightly, smiling over at Orchis who giggled from her perch on Fox' hip and peeked at him past her mother's hair.

Fox shook her head as Luffy protested loudly from his own perch on Beckman's shoulders and set Orchis down on the ground so she could run ahead for a little while. "Really captain, it isn't nice to make fun," she said quietly, "especially when I know for a fact that even if he could swim you wouldn't take him with you. Never mind that there are plenty of powerful pirates on the Grand Line who can't swim and will never be able to learn."

Shanks adjusted his hat slightly as he considered how he should reply to her words, which proved that –despite spending the past nine years in East Blue– she was highly experienced in the goings-on of the world's harshest sea. "Anchor doesn't understand yet what it means to be a pirate," he said quietly, "and he wouldn't believe me if I told him, which tells me how fortunate he's been in his upbringing. He's a good kid: he can afford to wait and enjoy his innocence for a while longer." Fox' hand on his shoulder made him look across at her just in time to receive a chaste kiss on the lips.

"You're a good man 'Red-Hair' Shanks," the blonde told him softly as he blinked in confusion. "I'm proud to know you."

Shanks flushed slightly; how was he supposed to respond to that? Fox had mercy on him however and changed the subject to ask him about various islands on the Grand Line and whether he had visited them. The pirate seized on the subject in relief and was expounding enthusiastically to his audience about an island the Red-Hair Pirates had visited where the locals had two elbows in each arm when they reached a meadow beside a river and Shanks spotted two older boys lounging under a tree, one with a bokken threaded through his sash and the other with a pair of short staves. The one with the wooden practice sword had red hair.

Both boys jumped up as Fox led the way across the field and as they came closer Shanks realised that the redhead didn't just have red hair, it was the exact same shade as the Yonko's own and was pulled back from a face that made him feel like he was looking into a mirror from about sixteen years ago. He glanced over at Fox, his eyes wide, and was greeted by a wry raised eyebrow.

"Is he..?" Shanks croaked, looking from the woman he'd slept with when he was fifteen to the boy and back again.

"Your son?" Fox finished for him. "Yes. His name is Blaze."

Shanks blinked stupidly at the child with a miniature version of his own face watching him intensely, then his mind went blank and everything went black.

* * *

Fox looked down at the crumpled form of one of the world's four most powerful pirates and shook her head. "I think he took that pretty well, don't you Benn-san?" she said lightly, turning to smile at Shanks' first mate.

Benn Beckman had put Luffy down and was looking seriously bemused at the turn events had taken since earlier that morning when his services had been sold for a hangover cure. "Well, he didn't panic," the tall pirate conceded dryly after a short pause. "I take it this is the real reason you brought us all the way out here?"

"I really would like you to help me teach my children to swim, Benn-san," Fox said honestly. "I was taught to swim at the same time I was taught to walk so I have no idea how to go about teaching it. It was always something I just knew how to do."

"I can see how that would be a problem," Beckman conceded, "and please just call me Beckman; after all you're the mother of my captain's child."

"Beckman-sa-"

" _Just_ Beckman," The tall, black-haired man repeated with a lazy smile, "and I'd be happy to teach your kids to swim. What are their names?"

Fox beckoned the twins over. "The redhead is Blaze and the one scowling at you is Ace," she told him. "Boys this is Benn Beckman, Shanks' first mate. He's going to teach you to swim."

Both boys instantly brightened. "Cool!" Ace said, eyeing the pirate speculatively. "We've wanted to learn for ages but Dad always does other stuff with us and Mum says she can't teach all of us at once and isn't sure how to go about it anyway."

"I'll start with the older two, then once they've got the hang of the basics I'll move onto Orchis and Luffy," Beckman told Fox before striding towards the river bank. "Come on boys."

"I'm not a baby!" Luffy protested.

"No you're not, but don't you think it's easier for Beckman to teach just two people at a time?" Fox told the six-year-old mildly.

"Oh." Luffy subsided, then looked down at Shanks. "Why did he fall over?"

"I surprised him," Fox said succinctly, kneeling down so she could rescue the fallen straw hat and sling the unconscious pirate captain over her shoulder like she had done to Beckman earlier, which judging by the widening grin on the first mate's face he enjoyed seeing more than experiencing. Fox suspected a good part of that was because the taller man hadn't quite known where to look or what to do with his hands while hanging upside-down. "Let's go sit on the riverbank and watch, shall we?"

* * *

Shanks meandered back to consciousness slowly. First he noticed he was warm, like he was lying in the sun. His head was cushioned in someone's lap and they were playing with his hair. He could feel the breeze gently tugging on his shirt, hear children laughing, Beckman talking quietly and the sound of running water. He took a breath as his eyelids fluttered and his nose was instantly filled with the sweet scent of citrus and woman with a faint hint of steel. He knew that scent: he remembered it from a small room over a bar where over a decade ago he had taken a lovely girl with sad eyes to bed and reminded her how to smile. Opening his eyes, he looked up to see Fox smiling down at him, her face upside-down and his hat sat on the top of her head.

The Yonko swallowed hard, his throat dry. It was one thing knowing that Fox was married and quite another to see her wearing his hat and feel her fingers playing with his hair. She'd really liked his hair before, too. This situation was seriously unfair and made him wish he'd asked her to join him way back when so that she wouldn't now be married and off-limits.

"Welcome back," Fox said, eyes twinkling with mirth. "I didn't think I'd ever get to see a Yonko faint, you know."

He'd fainted? Why had he-

Oh.

Shanks felt his muscles give out again, dropping his head back into Fox's lap with a bump. He looked up to meet her eyes. "I got you pregnant," he said conversationally, feeling like he'd been smacked around the head by Master Rayleigh.

"You did," she agreed, "though I have to admit to being just as active a participant in the process as you were."

She most certainly had been; it had been one of the best nights of his life and certainly the best sex he'd ever had up until that point in time and for several years afterwards.

Shanks rolled over slightly to look out across the river at their right, where Beckman was standing shirtless and thigh-deep in the water and patiently coaching two boys floating on their backs well away from the main current. "He doesn't look old enough," Shanks mused, then realised he'd said it out loud. "I didn't mean-"

"It's fine," Fox told him serenely. "He's going to be ten in the autumn. I delayed birth by several months due to certain circumstances."

"Circumstances?" Shanks carefully levered himself out of her lap so he was sitting next to her on the grass, noticing as he did so that Luffy and Orchis were playing tag a way across the meadow, out of earshot but well within sight.

"Well, I was living in South Blue at the time-"

"What?!" Shanks squawked, his eyes bulging. South Blue? Right after Roger's execution? She'd have been caught up in the Purges! He'd gotten a woman pregnant and she'd been in the middle of that mess?!

A hand smacked him in the middle of the back and bent him over forwards until his nose was inches from his knees. "Breathe," Fox's voice advised him calmly.

Shanks obeyed, breathing deeply and slowly. Fox was fine, as was her son. His son. She'd survived the Purges and somehow managed to protect their child as well. There was no point panicking about it now as the panic-worthy events were almost a decade in the past. He had to calm down.

"Better?" Fox asked, letting him sit up again and peering at his face concernedly.

"Maybe I should have just stayed lying down," Shanks joked weakly. "You were saying?"

"I was living in South Blue with my husband's cousin before the execution," Fox told him, "and only really attended because I was hoping my husband might be there."

"Wait," Shanks raised a hand, "you were married _before_ I met you?" He vaguely remembered Fox saying that only very few people knew her name or were even aware of her existence. Other memories of that night were rather more prominent, if less relevant.

"Yes. However we were separated rather violently and I wound up in South Blue, almost literally on my cousin-in-law's doorstep," the blonde woman told him. "I was very much afraid he might be dead, so when the execution came up I attended in the hope of finding him there, as he would most certainly attend if he were able to do so. However I found no-one and despaired, as it seemed extremely likely I was the only survivor of the incident. Then I met you."

Shanks knew what had happened next; he'd been there. "Then you went back to South Blue, I take it," he said, feeling a certain amount of trepidation about the whole issue concerning her marriage. Since she'd believed her husband was dead the guy clearly hadn't been _too_ angry with her for having another man's child, but there was a good chance the no-longer-absent husband would be pissed off at _him_ for supposedly taking advantage of her grief. That could be unpleasant.

"Yes; the Purges started three days after I got back," Fox said softly, eyes dropping to her lap and her fingers twisting together. "So many murdered and for what? To appease the paranoia of men who have never set foot outside their walled city, let alone met the man whose child they feared so irrationally." She sighed. "It was like a nightmare, except there was no waking up."

"How did you…" Shanks voice failed him. He could think of several ways a woman might conceal a very recent pregnancy to protect her unborn child, including taking steps so she could fool somebody powerful and influential into thinking the child was theirs. If she'd done that he couldn't blame her for it; she'd done well to survive.

Fox smiled sadly at him. "My husband's cousin was also pregnant, so we hid together. I'm very good at hiding, but she had the local knowledge and resources necessary for us to survive unnoticed provided we could delay giving birth for long enough. I should have had Blaze in early July but I managed to put off giving birth for a few months more, which wasn't quite long enough for the danger to be over but close enough that hiding him for the following weeks wasn't too challenging." She sighed. "I however am very strong. My husband's cousin was not and she ruined her health delaying her own pregnancy. She died shortly after giving birth and I promised her I'd raise her boy as my own."

"Ace?" Shanks guessed.

"Ace," Fox confirmed. "Not long after the Purges were over I ran into a certain Vice-Admiral who decided he liked me and took me home with him. Considering I didn't have anywhere else to go and two babies to care for I didn't protest very hard."

That did sound like something Garp would do; the man was a total lunatic. He could put together the rest of the story from gossip Makino had shared. Which just left one question:

"When did your husband show up?"

"About a year before I gave birth to Orchis," Fox told him, a smile twitching up one corner of her mouth, "so slightly over five years ago. She's an April baby."

"Did he mind?" Shanks inquired delicately, paying close attention to the face shaded beneath his straw hat. Bad enough that he'd accidentally gotten her pregnant and she'd had to deal with the Purges; the possibility that his thoughtless actions had ruined her relationship with her husband was almost worse.

"About the boys? No; he was just grateful I'd managed to keep myself together and not died from the grief of believing him dead," Fox said softly. "I'm not the most independent of people."

Which just meant there was an even bigger chance of Fox's husband hunting him down and wanting to beat him up for taking advantage of his at the time grieving wife. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you," Shanks said sincerely, tilting her chin up with one hand so he could look her in the eye. "I never expected to have kids and here I am with a half-grown son. I've missed a lot."

Fox shrugged. "It isn't like you knew and deliberately left me in the lurch, you know. As for missing a lot, you have but you also have a chance to make up for it. Make the most of it." She smiled. "I'm sure Beckman won't mind if you join in with the teaching."

Shanks looked over at the river, where both boys were now swimming up and down parallel to the bank. Blaze was moving very well, having taken to the water like he was born to it, and though Ace wasn't quite as confident he was still pretty good. "Blaze is good," he said out loud.

"So was I once," Fox admitted, "just like that, in fact."

"Devil Fruit?" Shanks guessed, turning back to look her in the eye.

"Not by choice," she said cryptically, "but it had proved useful since."

"You fixed my hangover," Shanks commented, taking an educated guess at what her abilities were. "That was pretty awesome."

Fox smiled, adjusting his hat on her head. "Go swim with your son."

Shanks grinned, shed his sandals and shirt and went to join his son and said son's brother in the water. Did that mean he sort-of had two additional sons and a daughter? If so, he didn't mind: they were good kids. Anchor included.

* * *

Two hours later Shanks was dry, fully dressed, sitting back on the river bank and chuckling madly: Luffy had proved himself to really be an anchor as he didn't seem to be able to get the hang of how he was supposed to move in order to stay above the water. He couldn't even lie still on his back and float!

"So you really are an anchor, Anchor," the Yonko teased the pouting boy wrapped in a towel on the grass next to him while in the river Ace and Blaze were racing each-other back and forth and Beckman was teaching Orchis to kick properly.

"I'm going to learn to swim! Just you wait!" Luffy declared. "Then you'll have to take me with you!"

Shanks had expected Fox to join in with a comment but instead there was a splash, a frightened shout and a furious female scream:

"Ace!"

Shanks bolted to his feet in time to see Fox dart out _across_ the surface of the river, her braids uncoiling from her head like a pair of golden anacondas as she made a beeline for the thrashing boy who was wrestling with a very large crocodile. The Yonko had never seen one that large off the Grand Line! He was about to run into the water after her when Luffy tried to dash to the rescue, forcing him to grab the boy and lift him off his feet.

"You can't swim, remember?"

"Put me down!" Luffy hollered. "Ace is in trouble!"

"Captain!" Shanks looked up and quickly shifted his weight so he could catch the four-year-old his first mate had just thrown at him. Unfortunately Luffy picked that moment to kick him in the shin and all three of them went down in a heap.

"Let go!" Luffy screamed as Orchis wailed and clutched at the pirate's shirt, shaking and sobbing. Shanks did not let go, not even when Blaze tumbled through the air to land heavily on the grass next to them.

"Luffy, shut up," Blaze said harshly as he levered himself into a sitting position, hissing as his ankle started turning purple from the poor landing.

"But-"

"Shut. Up," Shanks' son repeated, staring back across the water as sounds of splashing, cursing and a childish cry of pain reached their ears. "Mum's got her hands full rescuing Ace without having to fish _you_ out too."

Luffy promptly burst into noisy tears, giving up on pushing Shanks away in favour of burying his face in the pirate's shirt next to his little sister. Not having to fight anymore Shanks was able to sit upright again, pulling both sobbing children into his lap as he tried to see what was going on.

It wasn't just one crocodile: there was a whole group of them. Two were dead, their bodies pierced and bleeding sluggishly, Beckman was laying into three more with fists and a knife and Fox was balanced on the surface of the water, bare feet braced against the miraculously dense fluid and prying open the jaws of the sixth crocodile, her hair thrashing in the air like octopus tentacles as she grimly worked to free her son. Once she'd got the upper jaw open a bit more one of her braids wrapped around it and yanked sharply while the other braid coiled around Ace. The boy screamed as he was dragged free and launched into the air towards the bank, blood trailing from at least a dozen wounds.

Shanks quickly shoved the younger kids off him and shot to his feet, catching Ace against his chest and turning the startlingly strong boy over so he could get a better look at the deep and freely bleeding tears in his flesh.

"Mum!" Blaze screamed. Shanks lunged and grabbed the limping boy before he could reach the water again, dragging him back by the arm. The boy kicked him in the shin; the pirate winced but didn't let go. Fox would _kill_ him if her kids got hurt. More hurt.

"Easy there," he grunted, dragging both boys to the ground again.

"Let go!" Ace screamed, echoing Luffy' words mere seconds previously as he wriggled violently in the pirate captain's grasp. "Mum got rolled under!"

Shanks had seen crocodiles before; he knew how they took down their prey in the water. Fox was also a Devil Fruit User and completely helpless when submerged; a chill went down the pirate's spine. "Beckman will get her back," he said, sounding more confident than he felt as he turned to look at the river again. There were now five floating corpses and a frothing, thrashing mass leaking red as it was carried downstream by the current. Then the thrashing slowed and another scaly, mutilated corpse surfaced, followed by Beckman, who had his knife gripped in his teeth.

"Fox is a Fruit User!" Shanks shouted to his first mate, who nodded sharply and dived again, vanishing from sight as he headed further downstream at speed. "See," he added to the four sobbing, shaking children who were now also liberally bloodstained from Ace' injuries, "she's going to be fine. Ace, let me have a look at those war-wounds so your mother doesn't kill me for letting you get even more hurt." Shanks had the feeling that, father of one of her children or not, she would _not_ be happy with him if that happened.

* * *

Benn Beckman swam strongly downstream, letting the current propel him onwards as he reached out around him with haki for Fox's oddly subtle presence. He liked the tall blonde who seemed to get a kick out of setting Shanks slightly off-balance, though finding out she'd had a son by his captain had come as a shock. Judging by Blaze's age the captain could only have been fifteen or sixteen when the boy was conceived. Beckman had no idea how old Fox was, but she couldn't be much older than his captain and might even be slightly younger. However she was strong, intelligent, mature and kind. She was also very beautiful: Beckman could understand perfectly well how a younger Shanks would have found her irresistible. Fox's playfulness that morning had caught him off-guard –Beckman had never been _literally_ swept off his feet by a woman before– but she'd soon put him down and apologised for startling him. Not for her actions though, which the Red-Hair Pirates' first mate had found endearingly honest: she would clearly do exactly the same thing all over again if it caught her fancy.

The tall pirate had not expected to meet an intellectual equal in a backwater village like Fuusha either, especially not such a well-informed one. Until Shanks had caught up with them on the road to the river, the duo had talked around a number of subjects and Beckman had become rather caught up in Fox's subtle humour, careful skirting of certain subjects and her incredibly precise use of words. The blonde clearly made an effort not to lie about the things she considered important, but you could have hidden a small fleet of warships behind the things she _didn't_ say…

Then Shanks had shown up, been introduced to his son and fainted. Beckman had been startled but not as surprised as he might have been; all things considered this had been bound to happen to his captain sooner or later. Fox had at least shown she was sensible enough to organise the confrontation well away from possibly hostile ears or gossipy villagers and demonstrated a keen understanding of human nature while she was at it: she'd obviously _known_ Shanks would follow them. Beckman hadn't been surprised by Shanks' following them either: his captain had been slightly infatuated with Fox for as long as he had known the man, musing about her infrequently but regularly at odd moments. The first mate didn't think it was love –or at least he seriously hoped not considering she was married– but Fox was certainly a very interesting puzzle.

However she was currently missing, which was making him more and more worried. His captain had told him Fox had eaten Devil Fruit –which was obviously the _real_ reason why she'd wanted _him_ to teach her kids to swim– and he'd last seen her punching the eyes of the crocodile that had tried to eat Ace as its jaws closed around her legs and stomach and rolled her under the surface. There was a good chance she was dead, but he didn't think so: he'd have sensed her life being snuffed out. Instead she felt… absent. He couldn't quite pinpoint her location either but he _knew_ he was getting closer.

* * *

As soon as she'd felt the water stealing her strength away Fox had done the only thing she could to prevent the deep gouges being torn into her flesh by reptilian teeth from killing her: she'd used the last dregs of her control to shut her body down. She couldn't drown anyway and sending herself into what was essentially a deep coma would stop her from losing too much blood.

Fox had eventually learnt that it was not her mermaid heritage that meant she couldn't drown but a cruel quirk of her Devil Fruit. Being submerged in water stole away a Fruit User's conscious control over their body and Ability but didn't stop the Fruit's effects upon or within the body. Fox could not drown simply because her Fruit made it so that she didn't actually need to breathe. She was Life, so her body's tissues could be sustained indefinitely by her Ability even if she sank helplessly to the darkest depths of the ocean trenches.

However if she was wounded her Ability would do nothing to stem those injuries, so blood loss would eventually kill her. Sending herself into a coma slowed her heartbeat to the point it was barely detectable, which ensured she could only bleed out very, very slowly. There was nothing else she could do but drift away into the greyness swallowing her conscious mind and hope she was rescued. Spadille couldn't help her: he couldn't swim any more than she could. She had to trust Shanks or Beckman would find her before she was swept out to sea.

* * *

It was her incredibly long hair that led Beckman to Fox: he caught sight of a golden braid glinting as it drifted across the edge of his vision and grabbed it, coiling it up like a mooring line as he was carried further downstream. When he saw her bumping slowly along the river bottom he almost panicked: she obviously wasn't breathing and ragged wounds in her thighs, back and stomach leaked thin, sluggish crimson trails through her torn hakama into the murky water. The pirate had seen more lifelike corpses. He hadn't lost his composure though; it certainly wouldn't have helped. Instead he pulled her against his chest and wrapped one arm firmly around her hips, cupped the back of her head against his shoulder with his other hand then made a beeline for the nearest shore, kicking strongly and holding on tightly to the precious burden the water kept trying to steal from him. That one of her braids was wrapped around his arm helped; the other trailed behind him and got tangled around his leg but that didn't really matter right now. He had to get Fox out of the water and make sure she wasn't actually dead.

On scrambling out onto the river bank Beckman laid Fox down gently onto the grass and untangled himself from her hair before ripping her kosode open so he could rest his ear against her chest. Attempting chest compressions on somebody whose heart was still beating, no matter how weakly, could kill them and he _really_ didn't want to do that. It took him a moment to focus properly, but Fox's heart _was_ still beating. Just. So he diverted his attention to whether she was breathing.

She wasn't. Beckman therefore opened her mouth, gently pulled her tongue back from where it was obstructing her airways, pinched her nose and administered the kiss of life. Her chest rose and then fell, but her breathing did not restart so he did it again. Still no response. Feeling slightly frantic Beckman checked her heart was still beating –it was – then went back to breathing for the unconscious woman.

"Come on Fox," he muttered as he checked her heartbeat for a third time, "don't do this to me. I know you're in there somewhere." Was it wishful thinking or was it slightly stronger than before? Well, whichever it was she still needed to breathe, so he bent over her once more and forced air into her lungs.

This time there was a choke, a gasp and a gurgle and he quickly rolled her onto her side so she could cough up the water that had seeped into her lungs. However though Fox was at least breathing now she remained otherwise unresponsive, which was not encouraging. But it was enough for the time being, so Beckman turned his attention to her wounds, ripping away the ragged remains of her hakama and draping her over his lap so he could get a proper look at the tears gouged in both the front and the back of her body.

Examining the wounds more closely Beckman started to wonder whether it might have been a better idea to staunch the bleeding before worrying about whether or not she was breathing: deep, penetrating wounds marched across the fronts and backs of her thighs and pierced her abdomen, some clean and others brutally torn. The crocodile had done a number on her and there was blood liberally coating her skin from where it had seeped through her hakama, more blood splashed across the grass, seeping into his trousers and staining his hands from when he had pulled the destroyed garment away from her body and _still_ welling freely from every last wound, further worsening her chances of survival with every passing second. Beckman cursed his own idiocy as he tried desperately to think of a way to stem the bleeding before she slipped through his fingers. He hadn't realised how seriously injured she was because the dark fabric hadn't showed the bloodstains but he could see now that it really would take a miracle to keep her alive for more than a few more minutes. There wasn't anything he could do to fix _this_.

Lifting the limp, bloody woman to sit in his lap he held her close to his chest and rocked gently back and forth, heedless to the pooling blood and river slime. "I'm so sorry," he said quietly into her hair, "I promise we'll look after your kids for you even if it means taking them all with us when we leave. I should have been more careful; you trusted me with your children where you couldn't safely go and Ace got attacked while I was _right there_ because I was stupid enough to think that just because East Blue isn't the Grand Line it wouldn't have dangerous wildlife." He pressed a kiss to her temple. "Your husband is going to kill me. I may even let him."

Fox suddenly stirred, eyelids fluttering and fingers twitching. Beckman's eyes widened.

"Fox? Fox!" He bent down, lifting her chin so he could get a better look at her face as golden eyes opened and pupils slowly contracted to focus on his face.

"Beckman?" She shivered, her skin so pale from blood-loss she looked almost grey. "I'm cold," she whispered.

Beckman winced, pulling her closer and wrapping his arms around her more tightly in a likely-futile attempt to share his body heat with her and not caring in the slightest that he was getting even more blood all over himself. It was a hot summer's day and even the river had been warm, so the only reason Fox would feel cold was because she was dying. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, "so, so sorry."

"For what?" she whispered, her breath tickling against his throat as she tried to get as much of her upper body as possible in contact with his bare skin.

"You've lost so much blood, Fox," Beckman told her hoarsely, "too much." She really had lost too much: her wounds were barely bleeding at all now which suggested so much had been spilt there wasn't really enough left in her body to keep her alive for more than a few more moments.

"Sorry about that Beckman," Fox said, turning her head to smile lopsidedly at him, "but I'm too stubborn to die just yet." White fire danced across her skin, searing his nerves if not his skin, closing her wounds and restoring colour to her cheeks.

"How-" the bloodied first mate grabbed her shoulders and leaned her upper body backwards so he could get a good look at her injuries. Well, her former injuries: they'd completely disappeared. The only time he'd ever seen anything like this before was when they'd fought the Whitebeard Pirates: Marco the Phoenix could do something similar except with blue fire rather than white. Beckman let go of one of her shoulders to run his fingers gently over the smooth skin of her abdomen which only seconds before had been marred by deep wounds. He stared at her mostly-naked form, the blood still smeared liberally across her stomach and thighs the only sign that she'd been dying only seconds before.

"Beckman?"

His eyes travelled up her body to her face, adrenaline singing in his veins at the shock and relief her miraculous recovery inspired in him. Fox caught one of his bloodstained hands and cupped it against the side of her face as she leaned forwards, straddling his lap so that her face was level with his.

"Thank-you," she breathed before pressing her lips to his. Dizzy with relief and not thinking quite as clearly as he might have been, Beckman gripped her head in one hand, wrapped his other arm around her waist and kissed her back with desperate fervour, not caring that all she was wearing other than underwear was a soaked, dishevelled under-kimono that barely reached the tops of her thighs or that there was blood all over both of them. He'd thought she was going to die; getting the miracle he hadn't believed was possible was worth celebrating.


	6. Aftermath

**Aftermath**

Once he'd started kissing Fox, Beckman found he couldn't stop. Her mouth tasted sweet with a slight tang that reminded him of high-quality rum and the feel of her completely exposed upper body pressed against his chest made his blood burn. Fox was also far from unwilling, kissing him back with equal fervour and squirming in his grasp in a way that threw rational thought out of the window and made him want to find out how much it would take to make her scream his name in ecstasy.

"Thank-you," Fox gasped again as they came up for air, abandoning his lips in favour of dotting kisses along his jaw and throat. Beckman let his hands wander from where they'd been holding her in place, one stroking across her back and around her front so he could caress her breasts while the other dipped lower to cup her behind and press her more firmly against his groin.

"For what?" he rumbled in her ear as she moaned and shivered under his ministrations.

"Fishing me out of the river," Fox whimpered, her breath deliciously uneven as she leant her chin against his shoulder, gripped his biceps and shuddered while his fingers teased her nipples and he nibbled his way down her throat. "Coming after me in the first place. Helping me fight. Protecting the kids. Being there at all. Everyth-thing." Her voice hitched as Beckman's other hand dipped slightly lower to brush across the inside of her thigh and she rocked her hips into his, making him grunt and grip onto her a little tighter.

Unfortunately however her breathy words also reminded him of who exactly they had left behind upstream, which led to other unwelcome facts coming to mind such as Fox' _married_ state. Which meant that he couldn't simply slip her out of her ruined underwear and have her ride him until her eyes rolled back in her head and she screamed his name to the skies, even though that sounded _really_ tempting right now. "Damn," he muttered, regretfully taking his hands off her. Her whine of complaint did nothing to shore up his wavering resolve and meeting her limpid eyes with their blown pupils almost made him toss his newly-recovered good sense back out of the window so he could go back to enjoying himself.

"What's wrong?" she asked, a hand sliding across his chest to rest over his heart.

"Your children and my captain are waiting for us upstream," he told her, unable to conceal his own regret at having to stop. Fox blinked, then her eyes widened and her pupils spiralled down to points in a way that reminded him unpleasantly of Mihawk. Shanks was right, he realised as his ardour abruptly cooled further, there was no way she _wasn't_ related to Hawk-Eyes. Golden eyes weren't common, but Dracule Mihawk had got his nickname from the unique way of adjusting his vision like a bird of prey rather than just his eye colour.

"Ace is injured!" Fox said, her hand flying up to cover her mouth and her body stiffening in distress. "Oh, I'm a _terrible_ mother!" Tears promptly overflowed from her eyes and down her cheeks as she scrambled to her feet and loosened her obi so she could adjust her slightly ragged kosode with shaking hands as her braids spontaneously recoiled themselves on the back of her head.

Beckman was a little taken aback by both the completely silent misery she was displaying and that she'd seized on Ace's injuries as cause for concern rather than that she had been _cheating_ on her husband. Generally a woman in this situation would instantly lay the blame on the man involved –and he _had_ been the one to turn her thank-you kiss into something much more carnal– but Fox was only worried about her son. Getting to his feet and adjusting his now far bloodier trousers the tall pirate stepped closer to the blonde and helped her get her only remaining garment mostly straight, feeling a bit embarrassed about the bloody smears that liberally adorned the upper half of the almost transparent garment, most of which were recognisably partial hand-prints. White was not the most concealing of colours for a wet shirt and the kosode did not so much conceal her body as outline every last detail.

"I'm as much to blame for getting distracted as you are," he reminded her as he tightened her obi, uncomfortably aware that he was smearing even more blood onto it, "and I don't remember Ace being too badly hurt: he's smaller than you are and you prevented the crocodile from actually biting down, didn't you?"

"He's still hurt," Fox said in a small voice that trembled ever so slightly, "and I _forgot_!"

"You were mostly dead when I fished you out," Beckman pointed out, "so I'm not surprised it slipped your mind what with drowning and all. Even attempting to rescue him was incredibly reckless of you, considering. How would Ace have felt if you _had_ died trying to rescue him?"

Fox glared at him. "I know my limits very well _indeed_ , Benn Beckman, so don't you _dare_ insult my abilities and competence." A brief flash of something that felt like a darker, nastier cousin to Haoshoku Haki skittered across the first mate's senses and he wisely retreated.

"I apologise for insulting you, Miss Fox; I did not intend to."

Fox wilted. "Sorry; I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. I'm being far too touchy right now. Mostly because we're on the opposite side of the river and about two miles downstream from the meadow and I rather doubt Shanks has any idea how to deal with hysterical children."

Now _there_ was a mental picture that would bring a smile to Beckman's face if the situation wasn't so serious.

"You can walk across though, can't you?" he pointed out, remembering how shocked he'd been to see her _standing_ on the water.

"Yes, but I also need to wash some of the blood off me or it'll dry and be very uncomfortable," Fox said, patting her fingers against the now slightly tacky blood soaked through her under-kimono from lower stomach to hem and glancing at the other stains daubing her upper half. "Never mind that showing up like this will only inflict more mental trauma."

Well, true. "I'll swim you across," Beckman said easily; "I need to get cleaner too, after all." She was not the only one to have bloody smears and palm-prints all over.

* * *

Once they were moderately clean and safely on the other bank Beckman hefted Fox into a bridal carry and set off up the hill level with the river. "You might hurt your feet if I put you down," he said before Fox could voice a protest, "and it's really no trouble carrying you."

Fox smiled at him. "Thank-you. I meant it when I said I was grateful for everything and I fully intend to thank you _properly_ , but I really do have to see to the children first."

Beckman swallowed dryly; that 'properly' had been accompanied by a flash of pure desire that Fox had somehow projected with haki to paint a vividly explicit picture across his mind of exactly how _much_ she was willing to do for him. "You don't have to do anything for me," he told her, trying not to think about her lean, toned muscles, the enticing softness of her breasts and upper thighs or how incredibly limber she was. He _wasn't_ going there. Or at least he was _trying_ not to go there; whatever she had done with that projection of haki was murder on his resolve.

"I want to."

She had to be deliberately tormenting him; there was no way such an intelligent, sensible and loving woman would betray her husband like that. "You're married; I didn't rescue you so you would feel pressured into sleeping with me," Beckman insisted doggedly.

Fox sighed, the sound more fond that exasperated. "When I married Spadille we promised each-other life-long commitment but certainly not complete exclusivity," she said with a hint of amusement in her tone. "Spadille's too enamoured of novelty and variety to be truly content with just one person, so he sometimes spends a night with somebody interesting while away from home and occasionally brings even more interesting people home to share with me. In return he is fine with my doing the same, though I rarely do so. He jokes sometimes that my taste in lovers is so particular and my standards so high that even _finding_ someone I'm prepared to have sex with is so worthy of note that on doing so I should immediately take advantage, provided my prospective partner is willing." She smirked up at him, making Beckman wonder distantly as he tried to process her words what his face looked like right now. "So it really is _entirely_ up to you."

That… that was both completely unexpected and irresistibly tempting. "Well if you want to _thank_ me, who am I to deny you the pleasure?" the tall pirate said slowly, one corner of his mouth curling up into a lazy smirk as his hand tightened slightly on her thigh. "I couldn't possibly refuse a lady the opportunity to express her gratitude." Especially not one so brilliant, beautiful, accomplished and _available_.

Fox fluttered her eyelashes then slowly and deliberately leaned into him to press her lips against the side of his throat right over his pulse. "Well I really am _very_ grateful, so make sure you don't have any pressing engagements before I begin," she murmured in his ear as her fingers traced idle patterns on his bare chest, "as I'd hate for you to have to leave early and miss something."

"Tease," Beckman growled, feeling lust bloom hotly in his veins again at her shameless sensuality.

Fox' smirk widened. "It's only teasing if you _don't_ intend to deliver in full," she informed him slyly.

The pirate picked up his pace; at this rate they wouldn't make it back to the meadow before she completely unravelled his already strained self-control. Ravishing Fox was something he was _definitely_ going to do, but there were other things that needed to be got out of the way first. Plus the kids had likely driven his captain to the brink.

* * *

Shanks had always suspected that parenting was difficult; having to comfort, tend and keep occupied four frightened and angry children confirmed those suspicions a hundred times over. It wasn't even just _difficult_ : sailing in the New World was difficult. Parenting was bloody _impossible_! You needed eyes in the back of your head, infinite patience, a perfect poker face –he'd _never_ had one of those– never-ending energy and more arms than an octopus! This had to be why Fox wore her hair that long, as right now Shanks could really see the appeal of being able to extend his reach by another three metres and having an extra pair of limbs. How did Fox manage to do this every day and still smile like she hadn't a care in the world?

The first thing the Yonko had done –once the kids had _finally_ calmed down enough that he could let go of them without them trying to chase after Beckman– had been sacrificing his shirt to make rough bandages for Ace's injuries, since ripping up Fox' discarded indigo haori would probably have goaded all four children into murdering him horribly. So instead he'd reduced his wonderfully soft and comfortable shirt into strips and coerced Ace into letting him bandage the boy's injuries by pointing out that his mother would worry if he lost too much blood. The scowling black-haired boy had conceded and allowed himself to be patched up while Orchis sat in Blaze's lap and cuddled Fox' haori and Luffy clutched at Shanks' trousers and sniffled. Blaze just sat there, twisted ankle held out at an angle so his little sister didn't sit on it, his bangs escaping from the queue hanging down his back to bounce around his face in ridiculously girly ringlets and with a stiff, flat look on his face that was a childish version of what Shanks saw in the mirror sometimes after a really rough week.

Once Ace was properly bandaged and Shanks had also bound up Blaze' ankle the pirate found himself needing to do something to prevent the older boys from taking the initiative and start looking for their mother as well as keep the younger two sufficiently distracted that they didn't start crying again. Shanks had thought that crying women were challenging to deal with but crying children were far worse. Far, _far_ worse: they made him feel like a total bastard and set off the frantic urge to comply with absolutely anything if it meant they would stop and Orchis was still hiccupping ominously in her brother's lap as she wrapped her mother's jacket around herself more tightly. At least with women he knew roughly what they wanted and how to deflect them but he'd never had to deal with children before.

"So what do you normally do in the mornings?" Shanks asked, desperate to find a subject that wouldn't set off the waterworks again. He wasn't really sure what kind of response he would get, but what _did_ happen was not remotely expected.

Ace and Blaze both stiffened slightly, then looked at him keenly in perfect synchrony despite not actually being able to _see_ each-other from their respective seats in the grass. The play of emotions over their faces –suspicion, anger, realisation– followed by discreet glances at Luffy and Orchis were also perfectly in time with one another, giving the disturbing impression of some kind of hive mind. Shanks had been wondering how on earth Fox had convinced the villagers that two completely unrelated boys were actually fraternal twins but now he had his answer: it had been the boys who had done it, probably entirely by accident.

"Well Luffy has lessons and Orchis is starting on lessons too, but we go hunting in the forest and spar and practice," Ace said matter-of-factly. "Mum used to take us hunting but once me and Blaze were good enough at fighting and stuff she let us do it by ourselves instead."

"What sort of things do you hunt then?" Shanks asked, pleased to have managed to start a conversation involving his son even though it was Ace doing the talking. Despite not being actual twins the two boys were very twin-like indeed.

The black-haired boy shrugged. "All sorts: buffalo, tiger, bear, wolf, snake," he paused, a dark glint surfacing in his eyes. "I've never killed a crocodile before but Mum used to bring them home sometimes. They taste pretty good."

Shanks got the feeling that the dark, volatile boy had just declared war on all things reptilian. He wondered who would win. "She used to take you hunting?" he asked instead.

"Yeah," Blaze said, his voice quiet with a clarity of tone and pitch that was startlingly musical now that he wasn't shouting. "She took all of us since she didn't really want to leave us with anybody else. Ace and I would walk while Mum carried Luffy, then after Orchis was born Mum carried her instead and we took turns with Luffy, 'cause he's awkward and wriggly. Mum taught us how to track, how to tell what's edible and what isn't and when anything tried to attack us she'd kill it." He smirked slightly. "Luffy was always running off after something or other but Mum always dragged him back before he could get far, even if she wasn't looking his way. She's got totally awesome hair."

"Awesomely evil hair," Ace corrected his brother.

"Evil hair?" This Shanks had to hear.

"Mum spars with us so we can get better, since she says fighting people who are better than you are is the only way to improve," Ace said, his scowl fading slightly as he spoke on a subject that obviously interested him, "but when she fights she uses her hair to hit us with as well and we have to use Observation Haki or else she just throws us around 'cause her hair can get us from behind it's so long." He folded his arms grumpily. "We never, ever win even when we fight together and she never even works up a sweat; we're not gonna be strong enough for _years_."

"Strong enough?" Shanks asked just to keep the conversation moving; he filed away the boy's throw-away mention of haki as something to ask Fox about later.

"Mum says that when we can keep up with her in a spar we'll be old enough to leave home and do whatever," Blaze said. "It's really going to take years though as she even gives Dad trouble and he's _badass_."

"Really?" Shanks had never heard of anybody called 'Spadille' before visiting Fuusha. It wasn't a common name.

"He told the Lord of the Coast to shove off and it did!" Ace said brightly, his eyes shining with hero worship. "It was awesome!"

The Lord of the Coast was what the locals called the small Sea King that lived in the waters around Dawn Island. That Fox' husband could tell a Sea King –however small– to 'shove off' and have it obey him indicated this mysterious Spadille could use Haoshoku Haki; that he could spar seriously against Fox suggested he was just as capable with Kenbunshoku and Busoshoku, as he had finally worked out her 'hair trick' had to involve. He'd never heard of anybody doing anything like that with it before though. Was it just that nobody else had ever thought to try?

"So what kind of lessons does Anchor have?" the Yonko asked. Luffy punched him in the leg.

"'m not an anchor," the six-year-old snuffled. "I'm gonna learn to swim an' then you'll have to take me with you to be a pirate!" By the end of his sentence Luffy was almost back to his normal ebullient self.

"Don't you have to be able to keep up with your mother in a fight before you leave home?" Shanks teased.

Luffy paused. "She didn't _say_ I had to," he ventured tentatively.

"Luffy, if you can't fight her off she won't _let_ you leave," Ace said matter-of-factly. "Like when we tried to run away and live in the woods when we were five but never got out of the village. If you can't hold her off you'll never even get down the street, let alone onto a boat."

"Oh." Luffy subsided.

"Hey, but if you _do_ work hard enough at fighting and haki and learn to swim as well, you might get good enough before Shanks' decides to leave," Blaze said with a grin that indicated he knew his father would do no such thing but didn't see anything wrong with deceiving Luffy into a better mood. The ploy worked: Luffy instantly brightened.

"Yeah! I'll get so good I can beat you an' Ace then I'll beat Mum as well and Shanks will _have_ to let me join his crew!"

"If you get that good I might have to," Shanks joked, knowing the six-year-old would not be able to improve that quickly but still recognising that anybody capable of matching Fox's sheer strength and subtle brilliance would be a welcome addition to his crew.

"You asked about Luffy's lessons," Blaze said as Luffy whooped triumphantly. "He does the same stuff we did at his age, but less of it since he can't sit still for more than a few minutes unless there's food involved and he's got a dreadful memory. Mum taught us all sorts and Orchis is getting what Mum calls 'the full curriculum' but Lufffy is just getting the basics: reading, writing, mathematics, geography, biology and how to take care of yourself. The latter is cooking, cleaning, laundry, mending and stuff."

"That sounds very useful," Shanks said, more impressed than ever by Fox' energy and parenting skills. "No fighting?"

"Fighting isn't lessons, it's afternoon stuff," Ace said shortly. "Lessons are just in the morning and you only asked about mornings."

Shanks _had_ asked about mornings, but it was interesting to learn that combat training was not considered lessons.

"So if learning to fight isn't a lesson, what is it?" he asked.

Ace shrugged. "Necessary," he said with a terribly jaded look in his eyes. "Mum says that lessons are to teach us things we'll find useful in later life but could potentially manage without knowing, provided we can find trustworthy people to do them for us that is. We don't actually _have_ to do our lessons but they're interesting and we get treats and privileges for doing well. We don't have a _choice_ with the fighting 'cause of who we are and who we're all related to. People are going to try to kill us just for existing so if we ever want to leave home we have to be good enough to manage without Mum backing us up. Even if we never leave we _still_ have to be good enough to survive until she can rescue us. So no, fighting isn't a lesson: it's survival training. Like hunting, tracking, hiding, first aid, keeping secrets and using haki are."

Shanks felt guilty that just being related to him put Blaze at risk and that Ace had been caught up in that due to everyone thinking the boys were twins. He also wondered what Spadille or Fox had done for people to be willing to murder their kids just for existing. Luffy being Garp's grandson placed him at risk as the man had been a Marine for a long time and defeated any number of pirates, but the only people who might try to kill Orchis were those who thought she was also related to Shanks –which her looks might well deceive others into believing– or her parents' enemies. Neither Fox nor Spadille had bounties, so any enemies would be local governments rather than the Marines. The Yonko was about to ask whether they knew who exactly would be coming after them when Blaze jerked and grinned.

"Mum's coming back!"

Yes, his son _definitely_ knew how to use Kenbunshoku haki. He was good with it too: Shanks had only just noticed Beckman coming up the hill and he could barely detect Fox at all.

* * *

When Beckman strode out of the trees, Fox cradled in his arms and obviously none the worse for her near drowning, Luffy dashed across the grass like a bullet towards them, Orchis not far behind. The blonde slid quickly out of the first mate's arms and dropped on one knee just as her son slammed into her, wrapping his arms around her neck and burying his face in her shoulder.

"M-m-mummy!" the six-year-old managed before bursting into noisy tears again. Orchis then joined the scrum, also wrapping her arms around her mother's neck and sobbing into Fox' other shoulder. The blonde wrapped her arms tightly around both the younger children and rocked slightly, cooing.

"Shh, it's alright. I'm here, see?" She murmured, looking over Luffy and Orchis' heads to meet the eyes of the older boys who were making their way towards her a little more slowly due to Blaze having to lean heavily on Ace so as to keep his weight off his ankle and the black-haired boy's injuries reducing his range of movement.

"I saw you get bitten, Mum," Ace said tightly.

"I was, but it's all fixed," Fox said firmly, gently pushing Luffy and Orchis aside and giving Shanks his first proper look at her body. "See?"

What Shanks could see was that she'd lost her hakama somewhere and was kneeling on the grass in just her kosode, which was slightly damp and clinging to her almost as indecently as the dress she'd been wearing when he first met her. However unlike that dress her under-kimono barely covered the top third of her thighs and was only belted by a thin obi just under her ribcage, so her being half-kneeling exposed a long line of naked thigh and a glimpse at similarly damp panties. Dragging his eyes up, the Yonko then noticed that her kosode had a good number of ragged tears in it over her abdomen and that the hem was similarly torn. It was also discoloured in a way that suggested it had been very severely bloodstained quite recently and not properly washed since. More proof that her Devil Fruit had something to do with healing.

Ace and Blaze reached Fox, who took over holding the redheaded boy up while the dark one pulled on the hem of her garment, fingering the tears. Then he did something that almost made Shanks swallow his tongue: Ace unknotted his mother's obi, pulled it off completely and shoved the ripped kosode partly off her shoulders so he could get a better look at where her injuries were supposed to be. Shanks flushed, turning away from the scene and adjusting his hat to hide his shocked embarrassment, not that it did much to conceal his fierce blush. An amused cough had him look around again, this time to meet Beckman's eyes.

"What?" the Yonko asked defensively.

"Nothing," his first mate said with a faint smile, the taller man's eyes drifting over to where all four children were now meticulously examining every inch of their mother's bare skin for damage, her kosode lying discarded on the grass behind her. Unlike Shanks, Beckman did not quickly look away from the spectacle, his eyes instead roaming leisurely over the blonde woman's exposed body. The Yonko wasn't sure what to make of his first mate's completely out-of-character behaviour so he ignored it; maybe he was just seeing things. After all, Beckman wasn't that kind of man at all.

Ten minutes later Shanks was starting to wonder if either he'd completely misjudged his first mate's character –possible but highly unlikely– or he'd been hit on the head while wresting Ace and Blaze into submission and was actually dreaming. It was possible. The kids knew how to use haki. Beckman had not taken his eyes off Fox's naked body all through her hugging and reassuring her children that she was unharmed and none the worse for her tussle with the crocodile. He'd then gone and picked up the discarded under-kimono and obi while Fox came over to Shanks and hugged him, thanking him profusely for looking after her kids and not letting them get hurt. The Yonko had gone as red as his hair all over again and stammered an only moderately coherent response, not having the faintest clue where he was supposed to put his hands or how to respond to a married woman only wearing underwear hugging him in front of her kids. That she'd only briefly let off hugging him to kiss his square on the lips and beam at him further destroyed his composure as this really wasn't something he'd _ever_ had to deal with before. Naked people generally _didn't_ hug you no matter _how_ grateful they were, and feeling that gorgeous body wrapped around him did all kinds of things to his libido that he really didn't want her picking up on. Not that his blush wasn't a dead give-away anyway.

When Fox finally let go of him Beckman came up behind her and helped her put her kosode back on, but to Shanks it looked more like his first mate was using helping her dress as an excuse to feel her up. That Beckman made no effort to even _pretend_ he wasn't making the most of the opportunity to put his hands all over her and did it with a small, wicked smirk on his face was bad enough; that Fox just made eyes back at him and subtly shifted her weight to lean into him as he did so just made it _worse_. The Yonko would have said something except there were children present and neither Ace nor Blaze seemed to have noticed their mother was flirting heavily with Shanks' first mate, so he really didn't want to say anything that might lead to him having to explain what sex was to a group of pre-teens. No. Just, just _no_.

Shanks was so unbalanced by the morning's events he almost missed Blaze coming up behind Beckman –his ankle now completely healed– to give Fox a pair of swords –where had those come from? – which she threaded through her sash and to hand over her haori, which was actually several inches shorter than her kosode and made her look even more indecent, the dark colour drawing attention to her pale, shapely legs and the curve of her buttocks through the torn fabric of the under-kimono. Fox seemed utterly oblivious to how indecently delicious she looked half-dressed, her attention instead on getting her children to collect everything they'd left strewn over the meadow so they could go home. Shanks helped find lost shoes and shirts, rather grateful for the brief distraction and taking the opportunity to tease Luffy about his continued inability to swim. This prompted a suitable loud and vehement response and made Orchis giggle so he kept on gently poking at Anchor's ego after everything had been found and the party set off back down the track towards the village.

* * *

By the time Fuusha came into view Shanks was starting to seriously consider that he might be suffering from some kind of delusion, as he was almost positive Beckman and Fox had been flirting constantly throughout the walk back. It was pretty subtle, nothing obvious, but the glances, facial expressions, slight shifts in emphasis and tone while chatting and the occasional covert touching all added up to a rather damning picture and suggested that as soon as the kids were fed and out of the way Fox would be perfectly willing for Beckman to strip her naked and have his way with her as many times as he liked on whichever sufficiently flat surface happened to be handy, maybe even against a convenient wall. Shanks honestly hadn't thought she was that kind of woman and still didn't –Makino would have mentioned it for one thing– but he hadn't thought Beckman was like that either yet the taller pirate didn't seem to have any problem with insinuating he was willing to do just that. Was the Yonko just hearing things? Were his own issues with Fox being married yet still devastatingly attractive making him see things that weren't there? It really was unfair that Fox was married but still –Fox and Beckman?! What would her husband think?

He was very grateful when Fox turned off the main road just outside the village and led the way up to a large and rather beautiful traditional house that would have overlooked the harbour had the screen of trees not been in the way. Otherwise Fox would have had to walk through town looking completely indecent which would have spawned all manner of rumours.

"Baths first," Fox said firmly, catching Luffy by the shirt as he tried to dash into the house. "You've all got blood on you as well as normal dirt so I want you all properly scrubbed before you come to the table."

"Are you coming too Mum?" Ace asked, taking Orchis by the hand.

"No: I'll bathe after lunch as otherwise we won't be eating for hours," the blonde said, fingering her mucky hair. "I need to wash my hair too and you know how long _that_ takes."

"Okay," Ace said, leading his little sister off towards the building just to the left of the main house that Luffy and Blaze had already entered and now had a thin plume of smoke rising from its chimney.

"That was the bath house," Fox said as she slipped off her sandals and stepped inside onto polished wood, absently discarding her haori and flicking it onto a side table as she walked purposefully down the hall. "The kitchen is this way; feeding you is the least I can do for you both."

"Think nothing of it," Shanks demurred, rather wanting to get back to his crew so he could corner his first mate in private and find out what the _hell_ Beckman thought he was doing. "You don't have to do anything: it was no trouble." He also wanted to get away from Fox' unselfconscious sensuality before his will gave out as watching her behind and braids sway as she stalked down the hall in front of them was eroding his morals with every step. Yes he was a pirate, but before that he was a man. There was only so much temptation a man could take.

Fox turned to glance back at him, eyes glittering with something dark and amused. "Feeding you both really _is_ no trouble at all: the boys eat so much that making a little more is easy." She turned her back on them again and vanished through a door, making polite refusal impossible. Beckman moved after her, forcing Shanks to either follow or suffer through whatever his imagination came up with if he left them unsupervised. Remembering back to that night after his former Captain's execution provided plenty of detail for his wayward mind to conjure with and it wasn't helping him at all. Rather the opposite really.

As it happened Shanks might as well have fled the scene: while in the kitchen Fox just put on an apron, washed her hands and all the way up her arms to the elbow then set about cooking with efficiency and flare. The Yonko also made time to wash his own hands, as did his first mate, and the two pirates sat at the table and watched their host prepare a substantial meal while appreciating the rum she'd set out for them. It was good stuff too: rich, golden Centaurea rum with a very pleasant flavour and of exponentially higher quality than anything Makino had down at Party's Bar. That she was still wearing the same ripped kosode was slightly distracting, but it was easier to ignore that now.

Recognising both the quality and limited supply of the alcohol in question, Shanks savoured every sip and chatted with Fox about various things that had been in the paper recently, learning as he did so that for a woman living in a remote part of East Blue she was startlingly well-informed. Shanks hadn't known anything about Boa Hancock other than her name and that she hailed from Amazon Lily but Fox mentioned a whole load of other things about both the Pirate Empress and the fabled Island of Women that suggested she had either spent quite some time on said island herself or had access to a really incredible information network. Possibly both, the Yonko considered as first Luffy, then Ace, Orchis and Blaze hurried into the kitchen, all with damp hair and only wearing shorts.

"Blaze, lay the table please," Fox said as she stirred the pot on the hob that was the source of the mouth-watering smells floating around the room. "Ace, could you do something about Orchis' hair please?"

"Yes Mum," the two boys chorused, the redhead making his way to a cupboard and removing a stack of plates as Ace deftly tied his little sister's hair up in bunches on either side of her head. Shanks was rather amused by his son's hair, which formed large corkscrew curls a noblewoman would kill for. The nine-year-old had it tied up in a high ponytail so the loose ringlets bounced around his neck, but the ends would probably stretch to between his shoulder-blades if straightened.

"Where did you inherit those adorable ringlets from, Blaze?" Shanks asked teasingly. Blaze twitched, but didn't stop laying out the cutlery as he gave his father the evil eye. It was an amusingly Mihawk-like glare in spite of the nine-year-old having black irises and much thinner eyebrows than Hawk-Eyes.

"My hair was wavy when it was shorter," Fox said as she fished a tray out of the oven and started loading food onto plates, "and I believe I have relatives on my mother's side with very curly hair. Not that I've ever met them personally, but I do know where I come from." She finished serving the large portions of meat, went back to the stove and picked up the pot containing the source of the wonderful smell. "A person's background is important and everyone should know where they come from, if only so they can learn from their relatives' examples and not make the same mistakes."

Shanks grinned sheepishly at the subtle zinger as she served the stir-fried rice and vegetables, noticing that, despite squirming in his seat like his shorts were full of fire ants, Luffy had not touched his cutlery yet. Fox clearly ran a _very_ tight ship to keep Anchor from diving in as soon as the meal was in front of him as he seemed the type to start eating as soon as there was food to be had. Once she had finished serving the blonde removed her apron, sat down between Ace and Orchis and bowed her head:

"May the dead find rest, the living solace, those who are far from home return there in good time," she prayed as all four children also bowed their heads, "and our families and friends be provided for wherever they may be."

"Yay!" Luffy exclaimed as soon as she finished, grasping his cutlery and attacking his meal with fervour. Shanks ate more sedately, rather curious about that prayer. She hadn't addressed any specific deity but it was a good prayer; he would have to remember it.

* * *

Unfortunately for the Yonko it soon became clear that lunch had been nothing more than a brief reprieve from the madness: as soon as Ace had washed and Orchis had dried the dishes Blaze turned to look at the two pirates and asked a question that made Shanks think his hearing was failing him.

"Pardon?" he asked, blinking in confusion.

Blaze rolled his eyes. "I _asked_ whether you are going to help Mum wash her hair."

"Sure, why not?" Beckman said easily, getting to his feet. Shanks suddenly had a horrible feeling that the ground had shifted under his feet and that all his reference points were no longer where he had left them. Beckman wasn't being his reasonable, sensible self and Fox was a married woman with kids! Responsible people weren't like this! This sort of thing wasn't supposed to happen!

"Good; Mum has to kneel down so I can reach her head but you're taller so she won't have to," Ace said matter-of-factly, draining the sink and removing his apron. "Luffy, are you helping or not?"

"Erm," the six-year-old dithered.

"I'll take that as a 'no'," Fox said with an amused smile, putting the last of the cutlery away. "Orchis?"

The purple-haired four-year-old shuffled her feet, glanced around then nodded silently.

"Okay poppet. Luffy, stay near to the village and don't go running over peoples' roofs," the blonde said briskly. "Remember to come home by four!"

"Yes Mum!" Luffy shouted, tearing down the hall.

"Well?" Blaze asked impatiently, watching Shanks like a hawk. Sensing that this was some kind of test he was failing, Shanks found himself agreeing. It couldn't really be that bad if there were kids present, could it?

* * *

It wasn't 'that bad': it was _worse_. None of the kids present seemed to think there was anything wrong with Fox leaning into Beckman's front, her arms draped around his waist and making throaty moaning noises as Shanks' first mate dug his fingers into her scalp and meticulously lathered the soap through the first four feet of her hair. Blaze was looking after the next four feet, then Shanks had four feet, then Orchis had three feet and Ace had the final four feet. The children each had the hair draped over one shoulder so it didn't drag on the ground and were lathering the soap in so that every inch of their section was coated in frothy white. Being taller, Shanks had found it easier to kneel as he worked as otherwise Blaze and Orchis wouldn't be able to reach. He still couldn't believe how long Fox's hair was. He'd known it was long, but seeing quite _how_ long it actually was made it a completely different matter as the length –while ridiculous– clearly had its uses, such as catching wayward children and spearing crocodiles.

He also couldn't believe he was watching a completely naked Fox snuggle shamelessly into an equally naked Beckman, who seemed to be taking the opportunity to find out how many different ways he could apply pressure to her scalp to make her whimper and shudder under his hands. Just _listening_ was making him increasingly uncomfortable and he couldn't keep his eyes off them for very long as he kept finding his attention drawn back to them. Those sounds were just _obscene_.

"She reacts like that when I wash her hair too," Ace said, glancing up at Shanks over Orchis' head as his fingers teased a tangle apart, "but quieter since my hands aren't that strong yet. Dad can get her to moan _really_ loudly and go completely limp. He thinks it's funny."

Urk! That was too much information. The kids obviously didn't understand the sexual connotations of what they were seeing, but that Fox always reacted like this to a scalp massage suggested both that she was completely uninhibited and a shameless sensualist. Which, to be perfectly honest, he'd already been vaguely aware of and was now being reminded of rather vividly.

"She goes all loose and purrs when he gives her a back massage too," Blaze added from Shanks' other side, proving that, blood related or not, Ace and his son were the twins Fox proclaimed them to be. They were both oblivious to sexual connotations and had still boxed him in neatly with information he would have been happier not knowing. Fox was _married_! To somebody _else_! "We're still learning how to do those as Mum says they're useful for cooling down after training and for dealing with muscle cramps, but Dad says we need stronger fingers before we can really give a proper back massage," his son went on, oblivious to his discomfort.

The idea of Fox draped over his bed, stark naked, limp and purring as his hands worked on her back nearly made Shanks trip over nothing. As it was he had to focus his attention on rinsing the soap off the section of her hair he'd been made responsible for, letting the water slosh along towards the sections Orchis and Ace were working on. More soapsuds drifted his way as both Blaze and Beckman had also started rinsing the bubbles off, the taller pirate actually lifting Fox off the ground and holding her under the nearest showerhead with an arm wrapped around her thighs while his other hand ran through the cascade of hair and made sure her scalp was completely free of soap. Shanks did his best not to watch, but Fox had bent herself backwards to lean into his first mate's left hand and the water from the shower was tricking down her face and chest in a way that reminded him of that first meeting in the rain and all that had followed it. The Yonko was just as naked as everyone else in the bathhouse and didn't particularly want either the kids or Fox to notice his involuntary reaction. Even if Beckman and Fox herself seemed to have forgotten she was actually _married_ , Shanks hadn't.

The Yonko deliberately ignored the voice in the back of his mind pointing out it was likely Beckman was concealing from sight his own unavoidable physical reaction to how the woman in his arms was responding to his touch by keeping it pressed against her groin. His perception of reality had already taken a number of hits today: any more knocks and he'd be reduced to gibbering in a corner with his hat pulled over his eyes! As it was, getting blind drunk was looking more and more attractive. Maybe once he got over the eventual hangover the world would be back to normal…

As soon as Fox's hair was clean and moderately dry Shanks excused himself, quickly dressing again and heading down into the village towards Party's Bar. He needed a drink or twelve in order to process what had happened today; hell, he needed all the alcohol he could stomach! Maybe the day's events would make more sense once he was drunk.

Focussed as he was on drinking as much alcohol as he could get his hands on and thinking about absolutely anything other than his first mate's shameless advances on a married woman in front of said woman's children, Shanks didn't realise that Beckman had not actually followed him to the bar until he woke up the next day with a thumping hangover and noticed the first mate's absence. When _that_ fact registered the Yonko seriously considered getting drunk all over again, never mind that it was only nine o'clock in the morning. He probably would have done it too, but Makino didn't have anything alcoholic left in the building after the previous evening's binge so that option was closed to him. Shanks therefore let the hangover distract him from thinking rather than the more usual route of attempting to think in order to suppress the thumping headache.

* * *

Beckman drifted into wakefulness slowly, enjoying the warm, soft presence in his arms that was Fox and the predawn quiet that he so rarely got to enjoy. Shanks being Shanks, the predawn was usually filled with the tail-end of drunken partying and snoring crew-members passed out in bars. All things considered there was probably drunken partying going on down at Party's Bar this morning too –Shanks had looked like he intended to drown his confusion in alcohol when he excused himself early yesterday afternoon– but it was happening far enough away from him that the first mate of the Red-Hair Pirates didn't feel the need to get involved.

Fox sighed in her sleep and shifted closer, the back of her head rubbing against his shoulder. Beckman smiled and carefully adjusted his grip so that he could pull her back to nestle more firmly against his body. The previous day had been exceptionally enjoyable and the night even more so: Blaze and Ace had made themselves scarce once their mother's hair was properly dry, brushed and braided and Orchis had been put down for her afternoon nap, leaving Beckman with Fox all to himself for almost three hours before Luffy was due back. The pirate hadn't wasted any time; he and Fox had not gotten dressed after bathing so it had been a matter of moments to rip the towel off her body and pull her into him as he kissed her senseless. That first time had been all frantic gasps and breathless whimpers as Beckman let his iron control slip after suffering through so many hours of Fox's sensual and uninhibited teasing and showed her exactly _why_ doing that to him might not have been such a good idea.

Afterwards he had cradled her in his lap, kissing her as she trembled from the exertion then carried her back to the bath house and washed with her again, this time in a much more thorough and intimate manner and relishing her ecstatic screams as he thoroughly seduced her. He'd finally relented in his assault when she sensed Luffy returning –a little later than expected– to let her get on with all the things that wouldn't wait, such as sparring with the boys and cooking dinner, and made himself useful by playing with Orchis and reading to her out of a book the little girl had shyly given him. The book had been a very interesting read as it contained the various voyages of the Pirate King: he'd heard of it but never managed to get hold of a copy. 'Seeking Freedom' was a banned book –unsurprisingly– and according to Shanks, whoever had written it had gotten _everything_ right. Occasionally slightly too accurately for comfort in fact, if his captain's sheepish grin at hearing a retelling of one of the stories was anything to go by. The book didn't name any names but a number of more famous nicknames were referenced as were various islands and notable events. The author had written it under the pseudonym of 'Quicksilver' and claimed to have gotten the stories straight from the horse's mouth: direct from Gol D. Roger himself shortly before he died. Orchis had noticed his interest and told him that there were more copies of it in the library –he couldn't have _her_ book– so after dinner while Fox was busy putting the children to bed he had investigated.

Beckman had found no less than _three_ copies of the anthology in question, which lead him to suspect Fox was involved in a spot of book smuggling on the side. The rest of the books filling the groaning shelves and piled against the walls did nothing to dispel this impression: a number of them were _definitely_ banned and others looked like they would be if the World Government knew anything about them, indicating Fox had access to an underground printing press or at least to someone who did. It wasn't all subversive literature though: there was a very nice atlas of the Grand Line and Blues that Beckman had half a mind to try and coax Fox into parting with, as well as a set of books listing every last island on the Grand Line and various useful details such as location, climate, terrain, population, Log Change, history and various hazards to watch out for. In fact, had he not had Fox's promise of 'delivering in full' to get back to her on the first mate might have spent the rest of the night investigating her bookshelves.

However no matter how interesting the books, they could not begin to compare with the fire that flared up again when Fox came looking for him, gifting him with a sultry come-hither smile before turning tail and running down the hall towards her bedroom. Beckman had instantly dropped the book he'd been looking at and dashed after her, keen to have a bit more fun. Smirking anticipatorily as he cornered her, Beckman firmly shut the bedroom door behind them and set about ravishing her properly. No longer being as tightly wound meant he could take his time and _really_ enjoy himself and Fox.

* * *

Beckman had nearly dropped off again while going over the previous afternoon's happenings, but was brought back to wakefulness by the sound of the bedroom door opening. He'd forgotten there were kids in the house and that kids sought out their parents at the most inconvenient of moments; this might be a little awkward to explain, depending on who it was. Luffy he could fob off with ease and Orchis probably wouldn't think to ask questions, but the older boys might make things difficult.

It was Blaze, his curly hair standing out around his head and flopping over one eye. He was stark naked and very sleepy-looking, but still closed the door behind him quietly before walking over to climb onto the mattress and peer at his mother through the dimness from a little out of arms' reach.

"She's not usually this peaceful, you know," the young redhead said quietly, glancing at Beckman's face before his eyes flicked back to Fox.

"Oh?" Beckman suspected Blaze wanted to talk to _him_ rather than his mother, which was very interesting. So far Ace had appeared to be the dominant twin, but it seemed that Blaze was even more easygoing than his father and was prepared to let somebody else take charge most of the time. The current situation seemed however to be important enough to the nine-year-old for him to take the initiative.

"Mostly when she sleeps she's still tense, like she's always on guard. Even when she's dreaming she always seems to be watching," Blaze went on, staring at the half of his mother's face visible on the cushion and how her arm visible above the sheets was resting on Beckman's own visible arm. "She wakes up violently too: Luffy forgot to kiss her awake once and she threw him across the room by accident."

"Kiss her awake?" Beckman asked mildly, as though young mothers behaving like traumatised torture victims or hardened combat veterans was normal and par the course.

"The only way to get Mum to wake up that always works right is kissing her," Blaze said. "On the mouth generally, but we experimented a bit and it doesn't have to be: Ace kissed her elbow once. Kisses mean she doesn't lash out and immediately pays attention. Anything else results in her attacking or throwing herself out of the way, which is scary and always makes her cry when she's properly awake." The nine-year-old gave him a very old, tired look. "But when Dad's here she sleeps like this: completely relaxed and trusting. I could poke her and nothing would happen. Dad asks us to look after her but even when we cuddle in bed with her she doesn't look like this."

"You're still a child," Beckman pointed out, making an educated guess at what Fox's problem was. "You can't protect her from anybody who might hurt her in the middle of the night or whatever she sees in her dreams."

Blaze scowled. "I _know_ that," he hissed, "just like I know she sleeps light so that if anybody tried to hurt _us_ she could wake up in time. Whenever we have nightmares she's always shaking us awake before they get far. But it isn't fair that she doesn't get to feel safe too." The boy subsided with a sigh. "Dad is always on at her to find somebody to snuggle with when he isn't here but there's never been anybody she trusted enough."

"He actually said that?" Beckman hadn't quite believed the man would mention it in front of the kids. It was one thing hearing about it from Fox, but what Blaze was saying was only more proof that despite being married Fox and Spadille had a rather _open_ relationship. He couldn't exactly complain about that though as he _was_ taking advantage of it.

"Dad said that Mum needed somebody to keep her warm at night when he couldn't be there," Blaze said, clearly oblivious to the innuendo, "as well as that she needed to find people she trusted enough to fall asleep on or she'd start having bad days again. He also said that Zoro would be unhappy with them both if he found out she'd been neglecting herself, but that was in private." Implying he'd been eavesdropping.

"Who's Zoro?" This was proving a _very_ informative conversation.

"Zoro's Mum and Dad's other husband but we've never met him: he's missing like Dad was," Blaze said, crawling slightly closer so he could see his mother better. Another husband? Beckman assumed he wouldn't mind her extra-marital escapades either. "Are you going to come back or is this a just for once thing? Spadille says there are three kinds of people you cuddle in bed with: the just for once kind, the sometimes kind and the forever kind. Mum and Dad are each-other's forever, but he's away so often Mum really needs somebody else to cuddle with every now and then."

Beckman had fully intended this to be a 'just for once' –though the sex had been _fantastic_ – as he couldn't really see Fox as being somebody he'd be interested in having a long-term affair with. It could only be an affair since she was a married woman, even if she and her husbands had an understanding of sorts, but he and Fox were slightly too similar in all the wrong ways for it to really work out properly in the long term anyway. However listening to Blaze and seeing his obvious worry made Beckman wonder if Fox would let him spend the night in the house occasionally until Shanks decided it was time to move on. It sounded like she needed the support and that she was managing to raise four kids on top of dealing with very evident past trauma without it showing up other than in her sleep spoke realms for her mental fortitude.

It really made him wonder what her husband was thinking, leaving her alone like this. Either of them really, but Zoro was _missing_ , whatever that meant.

"Why isn't your Dad around more often?" he asked.

Blaze gave him a wary glance. "Dad makes sure Mum has money to buy us stuff with and finds out things she wants to know. He doesn't have a bounty because Mum made him promise to be careful until we were older and better at fighting, but I know he's a pirate because some of the stuff he talks about or brings home for Mum to hide is _really_ illegal." The redhead paused, looking over at the pirate again, then went on: "Mum's dad is a pirate too so she has to be extra careful at hiding. She's afraid the Marines might kill us to get to her and her dad, even though he doesn't even know she exists."

That explained a whole lot actually. "Whether I come back or not is partly up to your mother," Beckman said carefully, "but I agree that her sleeping better can only be a good thing. She works very hard, doesn't she?"

Blaze snorted quietly. "Well _yeah_ ," he muttered, " _obviously_. She wants us to be safe."

"Well I'll see what I can do about helping her feel safer," Beckman promised, then had a thought. "Why didn't you ask Shanks?"

Blaze rolled his eyes. "He may be my father but he's an idiot," the boy said flatly. "If he cared that much he'd be here but he isn't so he doesn't. His being my father doesn't mean he cares about Mum enough to stick around."

"I think he's still in shock," Beckman said, hoping his captain hadn't ruined his shot at getting to know his son properly. "Give him some time." The nine-year-old's tired cynicism was painful to hear and indicated the boy was far, far smarter than Shanks had ever been.

Blaze scowled. "I'll give him another chance but if he upsets Mum that's it."

"I'll make sure he knows," Beckman said, suspecting that the fierce protectiveness the young redhead felt for his mother was at its root the same deep caring Shanks had for his friends and crew. If so, his captain would do well to tread carefully or risk making himself an enemy just as unforgiving of slights to his loved ones as Red-Hair was himself.

* * *

Edited again for grammer 23/07/15


	7. Decisions

**Decisions**

Spadille sat in his cabin on board the Morning Glory, tapping out a tune on the edge on his desk and frowning thoughtfully. The past six months had gone very smoothly: his new crew were all accustomed to living in close quarters, knew each-other's foibles and when they inevitably clashed there was never any real malice in it. Gin and Tristan still argued but that was just sibling bickering, Alba-chan treated Matsuri-chan like a sister and tried to get her to set her fear aside, which was nice of her but unlikely to work due to the nature of Matsuri's trauma. Kobold was a brat but a hardworking one and Balis got on with everyone; Tew was still a little aloof but Spadille thought that was him not being used to this kind of environment rather than deliberate scorn, Sagi and Skua acted like long-lost siblings and Teresh treated everybody on board except Spadille himself like thick-skulled grandchildren. His little crew was like a family and it was wonderful.

Unfortunately however one of his 'kids' were experiencing difficulties he couldn't fix. Matsuri needed that brand off her back sooner rather than later and a good talking to from Fox to set her head on straight. However last month Shanks had showed up in Fuusha which meant everything had become much more complicated. Spadille intended to avoid Red-Hair completely, partly so as to avoid giving his relationship with his Pops away –there was no way the Yonko wouldn't spot the resemblance– but mostly because he wanted to be able to ambush the man later about his fling with Fox. Shanks was a hard man to fluster but he looked so _funny_ when completely wrong-footed that Spadille just _had_ to try. There was also the simple fact that if he was there at the same time as Shanks he'd probably let his curiosity get the better of him and try and coax the Yonko into a threesome, which would really mess up the façade he and Fox were maintaining to keep the villagers from getting too nosy. You couldn't keep many secrets in a place like Fuusha and 'degenerate' behaviour would get Fox and the kids shunned. He couldn't do that to them. Out on the sea where no nosy villagers could see however…

Sighing, Spadille shoved his chair back and headed out on deck. He'd visited Pops last week for just two days and had fun knocking around an island with his brothers doing nothing in particular. Well, not quite nothing: he'd showed off his musical skills in a bar, creeped out the locals _and_ his brothers with some of the songs he knew, built a _massive_ sandcastle on the beach with a dozen local kids and taught them some of the games his own kids had played. Their parents weren't particularly appreciative of _all_ the material he had shared, but the brats had loved it. The skipping song that was actually a guide on how to torture somebody had been an instant hit, as had the juggling game which listed places you could stab people and how long it would take each to bleed out. Those had seriously disturbed Marco; the phoenix might eventually get curious enough to ask where Spadille had learned those songs, let alone why he thought they were appropriate for children. He'd had a good time and would have stayed longer except he'd sensed Teach and had to make himself scarce.

Standing in the sun with a brisk salt breeze in his face helped the eight foot pirate captain relax a little, leading him to lean against the mast under the straining sails. After returning from that visit he'd finally turned their course away from the edge of the Calm Belt and down amongst the islands that made up the most inhabited part of South Blue. Inazuma had replied to his letter and they were going to meet up on one of the smaller islands not far from Briss Kingdom. Mecha was a small and very industrial island that specialised in engineering, with a small but high-quality shipwright consortium, numerous gunsmiths and several smaller workshops with artificers of every possible stripe, from goldsmiths to makers of clockwork automata. The entire island was a warren of workshops, backstreets and little hideaways and there were kids running wild everywhere, or at least teenagers and a few much younger kids. There were almost no preteens at all due to the Purges wiping them out and not many young couples either.

What really made South Blue such a good place for illicit business was that practically everybody had lost somebody and most of them held a grudge against the World Government rather than against pirates generally. Subsequently it was also a hotbed for the Revolutionary Army, which Inazuma now belonged to. It would be good to see the quiet, reliable man again.

* * *

Mecha was grey, run down and the air smelled of fire, metal and rotting garbage. It did have some vegetation, but mostly in rich men's gardens or clinging onto ancient roofs and places too steep to build on. Spadille found an old, twisted jackfruit tree perched at the top of the cliff Inazuma had agreed to meet him on and climbed it, swinging himself up into the branches and helping himself to the soft, sweet flesh of the fruits. He'd eaten two and was just about to start his third when Fox's sudden alarm rang through his mind, freezing him in place. Carefully the pirate looked down at his hands and shuddered, letting out a shaky breath as he carefully set the fruit he'd absent-mindedly picked to one side.

It was a Devil Fruit. That _really_ would have been a _nasty_ way to die. Incredibly stupid, too. Spadille carefully placed the massive fruit in his shoulder bag and went on eating, more attentively this time.

"Captain."

Spadille glanced down at the newly-arrived Inazuma, who now had the signature hairstyle the Logia remembered from his own world, half-white and all. He wondered how that had happened, then decided it wasn't any of his business, so he just patted the branch next to him.

"Join me," he invited after swallowing his current mouthful, holding up a chunk of fruit in one hand. "This stuff's good."

Inazuma's face remained bland, but the revolutionary _did_ climb up into the tree and accepted half a ripe fruit with aplomb.

"I haven't been your captain for several years now," Spadille said mildly in between bites.

"You are still a captain," Inazuma replied calmly. Spadille suspected that was as close as the terse, quiet man would ever get to complimenting him, so he didn't push. Even though he really _was_ curious about the other man's hair. It had to hae happened soon after Spadille had left to have grown in that much.

"So, how have you been?" The blue-haired pirate asked instead.

* * *

Three hours later Spadille ambled through the narrow alleys of Mecha, taking care not to step in the rubbish and debris scattered underfoot. Catching up with Inazuma had been fun but now he had business to be getting on with. The old bastard gunsmith had moved here and Spadille wanted his share of the money and possibly a few new prototypes for Kobold to play with. It would be the green brat's thirteenth birthday soon and he was shooting up like a weed, so slightly larger and heavier weapons would be just the thing. Alba-chan was on the next island over bullying the rest of the crew into carrying the shopping for her and Spadille knew the disguised fugitive would be getting the youngest member of their crew some new and better-fitting clothes as well. Kobold was shooting up fast after all.

The pirate automatically sidestepped the skinny teenager haring down the tight space between the buildings, turning his body just enough so the boy's outstretched hand missed his bag. Pickpockets were part of life and he'd been no angel himself as a child, so a little incentive to improve would do the kid some good. He did admire the boy's nerve though: Spadille certainly didn't look like an _easy_ mark with his solid build, bulging muscles and the yari slung across his back. Maybe he had a gang of bigger friends hiding around a nearby corner, but it was more likely the blond was just one of those people with more guts than sense.

Wait a moment… that blond hair had been slightly familiar… he reached out a little with haki to check his suspicions.

As he turned onto a busier and wider street Spadille laughed out loud, shaking his head as he walked up to the open double doors leading to the workshop he'd come here to visit. That skinny, messy-haired, blond, teenage would-be-pickpocket had been Killer. What a hoot! He'd _so_ have to remember this so he could tease the guy later. Though, since it _had_ been Killer, the boy had probably had a knife on him for stabbing marks who tried to fight back. Size was no indicator of ability and Spadille doubted any of the big men the brat had met so far had even a hundredth of the blue-haired pirate's own skill. A stab to the armpit could kill even the strongest of men and Killer had always been nimble and quick with sharps. Maybe he should let the boy find him again later so he could teach him a lesson on not underestimating people.

"Oi! You shitty old man! Get out here!" Spadille hollered as he stepped inside the noisy workshop. "You owe me money!"

"What's the fuss about, you noisy –oh, it's you," the greying gunsmith said, stepping out of the office at the back and whacking the nearest apprentice on the head. "What are you staring at, idiots! Get back to work!"

"Wow, you haven't aged well at all," Spadille said with a rude grin, hooking his fingers into his belts and sauntering into the building proper. "Work getting you down?"

"Show some respect, you overgrown whippersnapper," the old man grumbled, leading the way back into the office and lifting a pile of papers off a chair. "Brat? Out."

A small redhead with oversized goggles on his forehead and wearing tatty clothing glared up at the gunsmith from under the desk, bright scarlet eyes full of rage, then darted out of the room. Spadille nearly choked: Kid _and_ Killer all in one day? What were the odds of that? "I didn't know you had family," the pirate said mildly as he sat down.

"I don't," the old man said shortly. "He's my late son's wife's sister's child and he's here because before my late daughter-in-law's father died last year he agreed I could have his old workshops at a bargain price so long as I looked after the brat until he was old enough to fend for himself."

"You don't see many kids that age around here," Spadille noted neutrally.

The gunsmith snorted. "No idea how the Marines missed him; none of the locals like him. As though it's _his_ fault our children and grandchildren were murdered and he wasn't! Idiots."

"He reminds them of what they have lost," Spadille said quietly, remembering Rouge and how she'd become paler and frailer with every passing month despite Fox's best efforts. He actually had memories of his mother now, though they were second hand and not really of _his_ mother at all. She'd been beautiful, vivacious and so strong it made him want to cry sometimes. He agreed with Fox that the world was a little darker without her. Of course he also had Fox's memories of Roger, but the father he'd renounced was so painfully similar to how Luffy had grown to be he'd been unable to hate the bastard for his stupidity; Spadille still didn't know how the rumours of Roger having sired a child had gotten out in the first place and so many had died as result of them. "So many loved ones murdered in the pursuit of so-called justice."

"My condolences," the gunsmith said shortly, glancing at Spadille's face. "Now, I have the details of the bank here and I'll write a letter so you can withdraw what's owed. Anything else?"

"I've got a brat with a good eye on my ship who has been having the time of his life with those prototypes you foisted off on me," Spadille said, setting his melancholy aside, "and I was wondering if you had anything else like that. Or better."

The old man frowned as he wrote. "You bring your brat here so he can tell me how they performed and I'll see what I can dig up," he said gruffly. "Goodness knows I've yet to field test properly most of the models I've attempted so far." He finished writing, folded up the document and shoved it in an envelope. "Here."

Spadille accepted the letter and got to his feet. "I'll bring my brat around tomorrow," he said easily, shoving the door open violently and knocking Kid –who had been eavesdropping– over backwards. "You know," he said conversationally to the furious ten-year-old sprawled on the ground, "there are people out there who _will_ kill you for spying on them. Be grateful I'm not one of them." He lifted the fuming child to his feet and walked out of the workshop, whistling his favourite tune as the Devil Fruit in his bag weighed heavily on his mind.

* * *

Spadille had never believed in fate; if he had he may as well have just lain down and died on finding out who his father was and how many people there were out there who wanted him dead for it. If 'fate' had ever meant anything he would have died at Marineford and that would have been it, as that was the end Shyarly had foreseen for him. Fox's very _existence_ was proof that destiny was a load of bull –if she actually _wanted_ something then _nothing_ would stop her from attaining it, no matter how impossible it seemed– but now, sitting on the rail of the upper deck of his little ship with a Devil Fruit in his bag and two young counterparts to people he'd known fairly well on the island sitting on the horizon before him, Spadille had to wonder if maybe some things _were_ meant to be.

He knew which Devil Fruit was sitting in his bag; he'd seen it in the encyclopedia Marco had inherited from their Pops. This was the Fruit the Eustass Kid of his own world had eaten and later used to claw his way to prominence and vie for the title of Pirate King. He hadn't quite made it to the top, but becoming a Yonko was pretty impressive considering how many other people with the same dream hadn't even made it past Reverse Mountain.

Staring down at the water below his dangling feet, Spadille brooded on the nature of reality and whether certain events truly could not be prevented. Rouge had entrusted this world's Ace to Fox, but the boy had still ended up under Garp's wing and hidden on Fuusha, for instance. Then Shanks had showed up, leading Spadille to wonder if in a year's time Luffy would be a rubberman again in spite of having a more caring family and a much better education. It seemed likely, really. Then what? Garp couldn't take Luffy away from Fox and entrust him to mountain bandits; this world's Dadan Family had been arrested years ago rather than getting killed by Fox, as was happening to a good number of Dawn Island's other bandits. Though if it came to it he would take a certain vindictive pleasure in watching the shitty old man _attempt_ to take Luffy away; Fox took her responsibilities _very_ seriously and the dense little boy was _her_ charge, if not her captain this time. Garp would be lucky to survive.

He wondered if Ace had met Sabo yet. He'd met the blond when he was much younger, but Ace and Blaze had only recently started venturing further afield and into Grey Terminal. Spadille wasn't quite sure how he'd react to seeing Sabo as a child rather than the scarred revolutionary that was most prominent in his memories.

"Captain?"

"What is it Alba-chan?" Albatross was generally the one to approach him on the rare occasions he succumbed to gloom and depression, musing on might-have-beens. She was the only member of the crew who was completely unafraid of him, which was proof the universe had a sense of humour as she'd been utterly terrified of him initially. Well, both afraid of him and afraid of him leaving her, a contradiction which had made the first couple of years of their acquaintance challenging. He was grateful for all of Fox' advice and knowledge of how to deal with problems like that. A teenager's growing pains were unpleasant for everyone within range, not just the adolescent themselves.

"We were just wondering what was on your mind, captain." Spadille didn't brood often. November eleventh, Zoro's birthday, was the one day a year he was generally miserable since arriving in this world, and he didn't like the first of October much better as it was the date of his almost-death and his Pops' demise, never mind that the old man was alive here still. May seventh was just as bad; it had been the day Teach murdered Thatch and set events in motion that lead to the War of the Best.

"Do you believe that certain events are predetermined?" he asked. "That certain things _will_ happen, no matter how we try to prevent them?"

There was a thoughtful pause.

"Captain, I believe that people are rather predictable, so certain things that appear predetermined are just a consequence of individuals making decisions according to their nature," Albatross said eventually. "Some might say the Purges were fate, but really they were a consequence of old men with far too much power making foolish decisions based on groundless fear. So no, I don't believe fate is determined by some outside force. We all make our own fates and the fates of those we interact with by our own choices."

He liked that view. That meant he could make his own decisions and not worry about things too much. It also gave him a little leeway to play with, which was always fun. That it coincided a great deal with how Fox felt about things was even better. Stretching, he rolled backwards off the railing and somersaulted to his feet.

"Is everything stowed belowdecks?"

"Yes Captain." Alba-chan was laughing at him with her eyes again; he ruffled her curls fondly.

"Good-oh! We're sailing to Mecha: Kobold and I have an appointment with a gunsmith tomorrow."

"Aye-aye Captain!" Teresh called out, walking down the deck towards the rudder. "Come on you lazy layabouts; what are you waiting for?"

As his crew scrambled into action Spadille grinned, idly twirling his yari. Tomorrow would be interesting.

* * *

Watching a ten-year-old Eustass Kid boil with rage and envy as he snuck glances at Kobold was both highly entertaining and deeply disconcerting, as Spadille was strongly reminded of the bottomless pit of fury that had bubbled in his own heart until his almost-death at twenty had drained it and Fox's healing had closed it. He knew that anger, that powerlessness and bitter hatred that consumed everything and Kid didn't even have brothers to salve the pain. No wonder he'd been such a brutal bastard when he was older.

Spadille also took note of the roll of tools –probably stolen– and the half-built little robot that the red-haired and -eyed boy was clutching in one hand and had probably been working on before Kobold caught his attention. Really, Spadille shouldn't have been surprised: with his greenish skin and hair and short horns Kobold looked _really_ strange to somebody not used to the various oddities the Grand Line threw at you, yet he was well-dressed, armed and being treated like an adult as he argued range and reload times with the greying gunsmith and showed off his skill. That Kobold looked the same age as Kid yet was clearly much better treated for all he looked far less human probably made the fuming brat want to spit tacks. That he hadn't done so yet indicated more self control than Spadille had had at the same age, which was a bit embarrassing really. Kid at least had people to teach him that, unlike the Dadan family who either hadn't seen the point in trying or plain hadn't cared.

"Captain! Look at this!" Kobold said eagerly, weighing a newly-loaded pistol with a revolving magazine in his hand then hitting one target after another with just a small pause between shots to get the next bullet in line and re-cock the flint. "Isn't this neat? Can I keep them, _please_ Captain?"

Spadille looked over at the gunsmith, who was writing feverishly on a clipboard and muttering to himself. "I don't see why not considering you seemed to have inspired the old goat to make further improvements. This counts as work after all, so he should pay you for it and we really don't know how the newer guns will hold up under different conditions or how long it'll take them to stop working. Testing new weaponry is a serious business after all."

Kobold whooped, bouncing up and down in sheer delight. "Yes! New guns! You're the best Captain!"

Spadille chuckled and ruffled his sniper's hair as the boy shot past him and set about examining the ammunition in the crate near the door back into the building, well out of the way of the firing range. "Oi! Old Man!" he said, ambling over to the gunsmith.

"Hm?"

"Can I keep the prototypes for an extended field test?"

"Certainly; I have a whole lot of ideas for improvements now. Your boy's good; bring him back, will you?"

"If I can," Spadille said easily. "Nothing in life is certain Old Man, not even death."

The gunsmith snorted at the apparently foolish comment and went back to his sketches so Spadille left him to it, wandering over towards his sniper who was haggling with one of the old man's senior apprentices over the price of ammunition. It appeared the foolish teenager was trying to extort extra cash from his little goblin because the man didn't like Kobold's looks. Spadille quietly moved behind the man and leaned down, completely unnoticed by the blustering young twit.

"You know, if you don't stop being quite so obstructive we might never come back," the eight-foot pirate said mildly in the apprentice's ear, making the unfortunate fool stiffen in shock. "Or else we might just decide to kill you, hide the body and take the ammunition regardless. I'm sure your master has other apprentices; he won't miss the one."

The young man went stark white.

"So accept my sniper's money and get gone, won't you?" Spadille finished softly, his tone as pleasantly easygoing as his facial expression was cold, "Unless of course you have a _personal_ problem with a member of my crew?" He raised an eyebrow, daring the man to make an issue of Kobold's looks.

The apprentice stammered out a much lower price, accepted the money Kobold handed over and then fled the scene with more speed than was strictly dignified.

The green goblin snickered. "He pissed himself Captain! That was _so_ cool!"

"Well I can't let people cheat members of my crew, can I?" Spadille pointed out dryly with a faint smile. "It sets a bad precedent."

Kobold grinned up at him, showing off a mouthful of very sharp teeth. "You're awesome, Captain," he said sincerely. "Can I go get Gin to haul the crates?"

"Go for it goblin," Spadille said easily, patting the preteen on the head. "He could use the exercise anyway."

The green sniper darted off out of the yard, scrambling onto a wall and up over the roofs of the warehouses with the nimble agility of someone who had spent over a year haring up and down rigging in all weather.

"You know if you keep scowling like that your face will get stuck that way," Spadille said once Kobold was gone, _then_ turned around to meet the eyes of the startled ten-year-old who had watched the entire episode positively radiating rage, envy and pain.

"What's it to you?" the red-eyed boy spat sullenly.

Spadille raised an eyebrow. "Scowls just make you look sour, you know. You should smile more."

Eustass Kid bared his teeth at the blue-haired pirate in a snarl.

"Yep, like that," Spadille said cheerfully. "Never underestimate the power of a good smile." Falco had a fabulous smile that inspired blind terror in all who saw it. It made him look like a total psycho and inches away from cackling like a lunatic, which was rather deceiving as Falco was actually very laid-back, patient and easygoing. He never seemed to realise how badly it frightened people either, which was rather cute really. At least his girlfriend didn't mind.

The ten-year-old blinked at him, slightly taken aback. "You're crazy," Kid said eventually.

Spadille shrugged. "Define sanity."

Kid blinked again, paused then visibly put the challenge aside. "Why are you even talking to me? Nobody likes me."

"You're a brat," Spadille said dryly. "Nobody likes brats. I was one too at your age so I should know."

"Nobody's _ever_ treated _me_ like you treat that green boy," Kid said bitterly. "Not even when I was little."

Spadille wanted to say Kid was still little, but didn't think it would go down well: Kid's temper was evident even now. "So what're you going to do about it?" he asked instead, hooking his thumbs in his belts.

Kid snarled again, this time the expression a younger version to the wild, bloodthirsty grin Spadille remembered from fighting the only Yonko who constantly challenged Luffy for the title of Pirate King. "I'm gonna get strong and then I'm gonna make them _pay!_ I'm gonna be the Pirate King!"

* * *

Eustass Kid hadn't meant to say it, hadn't meant to voice his dream to the massive blue-haired man who treated him like any other child rather than the 'little devil' everyone whispered he was. He didn't want this man to laugh at him like everybody else had, to call him young, weak, foolish or just naïve. But it had slipped out so he set his teeth and braced himself for the inevitable.

"Big dream," the man he knew only as 'Captain' said appreciatively. "How'd you plan to achieve that then?"

Kid's jaw dropped slightly. He hadn't laughed. Hadn't dismissed him. That had _never_ happened before.

"No plans?" the man went on, raising an eyebrow. "That won't do: you need a good plan to achieve something that big."

Kid had never managed to think that far ahead before; people generally put him down right away. "I'm going to learn to fight, set out as soon as I'm old enough, get a strong crew and sail up the Grand Line all the way to Raftel," he blurted out.

"Well, that's a start," Captain said with an accepting nod. "Make sure you have somebody reliable to watch your back though; every king needs a strong right-hand man, after all."

That made sense. Even he knew that the previous Pirate King had Silvers Rayleigh as his right hand and shadow; the Dark King was even named for it.

"Can you swim?"

Kid flushed. "No," he gritted out through his teeth. Nobody was prepared to teach him how and the Old Man was always busy.

"Okay." Captain then swung his bag off his shoulder and removed a jackfruit from it. Except that unlike normal jackfruit this one was covered in tiny swirls and was silver rather than green. "Do you know what Devil Fruit is, brat?"

Kid's eyes widened. _That_ was a Devil Fruit? He'd heard of them of course, eavesdropped on sailors in bars talking about the rest of the Blue and even the Grand Line. Devil Fruit often came up, though some of the stories were so crazy Kid thought they were made up.

"You'll never be able to learn to swim and you'll sink in water like a dropped hammer," Captain went on musingly, "and you'd better beware of Sea Stone like no other metal, but it will give you something to work with." He hefted the Fruit thoughtfully. "Well?"

Kid's mouth went dry. This man was just going to _give_ him a Devil Fruit? A thing worth over one hundred _million_ beli? Just like that?! "Why?" He asked.

Captain shrugged. "I can't eat it," he said, "as I've already eaten one and I don't particularly want to die horribly, thanks. I've got my own dream to pursue after all. And I found it, so I can do what I like with it. Even give it to a rude, grumpy brat with the world's biggest dream." He hefted the Fruit again. "Want it?"

Kid darted forward, snatched the massive, gunmetal grey Devil Fruit and bit down on it, not wanting to give the man a chance to change his mind. It tasted _vile_ , like rotting garbage smelled, but he didn't spit it out. He didn't care what it did, what kind of monster he turned into; he would use it and become strong and everyone who laughed at his dream would _die_.

* * *

Spadille watched as the red-eyed brat took his first step on the journey to becoming Eustass 'Captain' Kid, the most cruel and violent of the Yonko and the only one in his own world whose high bounty was entirely his own doing. Shanks had a high bounty partly due to his being a former member of the Roger Pirates and Spadille's bounty was largely due to his heritage and close connection to his little brother the Pirate King through Fox and Zoro. Kid however had made a name for himself by slaughtering everyone he came across and had no pirate connections in his past to hike his bounty higher.

"Captain!" It was Kobold, followed by Gin, Sagi and Tew.

"The people here are _appallingly_ rude," Sagi sniffed as she ducked under the doorframe and entered the enclosed yard. "Permission to start a barfight, Captain?"

Sagi was much more assertive than she had been and wore breeches that finished just above the knee rather than full-length baggy trousers. Spadille considered both changes from her original demeanour to be triumphs.

"You can finish as many fights as you want, Sagi my dear, but no starting them," he told her with a grin, "as it's rude to whale on the locals for no reason."

Sagi snorted. "Permission to take Tristan drinking then?"

Spadille sniggered. Tristan was a highly eloquent and insulting drunk and side-splittingly hilarious to listen to when he got going. Most people didn't seem to think so though and he had instigated more barfights than the rest of the crew together.

"Go for it beautiful," he said with a grin, "and remember to carry him back afterwards." Tristan's legs always gave out when he got properly drunk.

Sagi grinned, the expression distinctly vindictive. "Yes sir!" She turned on her heel and stalked off again with a loping grace and speed only a Longlegs could achieve.

"That was cruel Captain," Tew said mildly as he hefted one of the large ammunition crates off the ground and loaded it on top of the one in Gin's arms.

"Nothing good ever comes of upsetting a lady," Spadille said lightly, "which the locals here could stand to learn if they're managing to offend Sagi. She's pretty thick-skinned about her appearance." Sagi didn't care what ignorant short-arses thought of her legs; she knew they were beautiful.

Gin coughed. "It was what people were saying about Balis that got her goat," the heavily tanned young man said shortly. "Balis and Kobold. You know how good her ears are."

Sagi did have _very_ good hearing. Spadille suspected there was haki involved there somewhere and intended to start teaching his crew the basics this year since he had to stay out of East Blue as much as possible. At least Fox had Beckman to lean on a little in his prolonged absence; he'd have to buy the Red-Hair Pirates' first mate something nice. A good South Blue rifle perhaps, since they made the best firearms here, but Beckman was fond of using his rifle like a club so any gift would have to be extremely durable.

"Well then they _really_ have it coming, don't they?" Spadille said blandly. "Maybe you'd like to go and have a few drinks as well. Perhaps in a different bar though."

Gin let out a short bark of laughter and Tew leered evilly as he lifted up the third crate. "Well, if we're getting shore leave we'd better get this stowed back on board so we can enjoy it properly," said the swordsman with no small amount of cruel glee.

"Remember your weapons and watch out for pickpockets," Spadille called after them.

"Captain?" Kobold looked up at him, his face sad. "They don't have to, really. I don't care what the idiots say."

"You may not care, goblin, but we do," Spadille said firmly, "and if it's bad enough that _Sagi_ wants to kick a few heads in then they deserve all they get. Crew is like family and family takes care of each-other." He ruffled the green boy's hair. "I'd thought you'd realised that by now."

"Yes Captain," Kobold said, smiling shyly. "Shall we go back to the ship then? If everyone's going drinking I'll need to stay up on watch."

"How did I ever find such a responsible little monster for my crew, hm?" Spadille teased his sniper. "Off with you; I'll catch up."

"Sir!" Kobold legged it.

Spadille stuck his hand in his bag and fished out a small flask of rum. "You finished yet?" he asked Kid, turning to look at the boy who had been quiet ever since snatching the Devil Fruit out of his hands.

"Mmm," Kid said, making a terrible face as his cheeks bulged.

"Swallow it down quick and then wash your mouth out with this," the pirate said, holding out the flask. "Nothing in the world tastes as foul as Devil Fruit."

Kid swallowed hard, winced and accepted the flask, sniffing it as he opened it. "Rum?" he asked in a choked voice.

"Swill and spit, brat," Spadille said with a grin. "There's nothing like alcohol for killing a bad taste."

Kid obediently tossed back a swig, swilled it around his mouth and spat it out again, coughing.

"Better?" Spadille asked with a grin.

"No," Kid gasped, handing the flask back. "It still tastes dreadful."

"Less dreadful though, hm?" the pirate pointed out.

"Not by much," the ten-year-old muttered.

Spdaille laughed. "Rahahahaha! No, but seriously, with Devil Fruit every little helps," he managed to say between chuckles. "Good luck with your dream, brat, and remember that with Devil Fruit, control is far more important than raw power. There are people out there who can defeat a Fruit User with nothing but their own will to back them up. Don't get killed because you think you're invincible, because you aren't." He turned to leave. "Oh, and I meant it when I said you needed someone steady to back you up."

Kid didn't reply, but that didn't matter because Spadille was already leaving, hoping he hadn't said too much. Inspiring and giving advice to Eustass Kid, who had been one of his own major rivals and a fellow Yonko, was not something the displaced pirate had ever expected to do in South Blue.

* * *

With constant advice and support from Fox, Spadille managed to support and reassure Matsuri for another two and a half months, at which point the poor former slave just fell to pieces, wailing about how weak and useless she was and begging to be let off the ship. Or just put out of her misery, which was almost worse. Spadille had taken one look at the sobbing dancer, picked her up bodily and told Albatross to pack up the petite woman's belongings and anything they wanted her to have.

"Are we leaving her somewhere, Captain?" Kobold asked tentatively.

"Never; she's crew," Spadille said as he leant back against the mast and cuddled against his chest the miserable, broken child who despite being physically twenty had never really got past twelve emotion-wise. Slavery did terrible things to people and was many times worse for pretty and defenceless girls, the latter of which Fox fortunately had _not_ been since being force-fed Devil Fruit all those years ago. "Our little blossom will be spending the next few years with my wife, who understands _exactly_ what she's going through and will help her find new things to try with her ability. Then when she's got her feet back under her and a purpose in mind she can come back and we'll help her to really shine." According to Fox the breakdown was a good thing, but Matsuri needed to be somewhere safe and stable for the next bit and Spadille knew the safest place in the world for a recovering former-slave was within sensing range of his delightfully lethal wife. Dawn Island was only so big after all.

Everybody seemed greatly relieved to hear that; Matsuri may have been a mouse but she was kind, hard-working and very soothing to be around. And a really fabulous musician, but that was beside the point right now.

"I'll go pack her things, Captain," Alba-chan said calmly, "and lend her a few books. She was interested in the mythology of Wano you were talking about two weeks ago."

"I'll make her some dango," Skua said, vanishing back into the kitchen. The chef had a crush on the former dancing girl that was painful to watch as there was no way Matsuri was going to even be able to _think_ about reciprocating for several years at least. Fox could speed the healing process along and help their fragile flower conquer her pain, but according to his wife sexual abuse left the deepest mental and emotional wounds and healed the slowest. Matsuri would need time, patience and lots of care before she was able to move beyond her injuries and take back what had been stolen from her. Spadille didn't begrudge her a moment of it; Fox had warned him this was coming the moment he accepted Matsuri onto his crew and he had in fact planned for it. Better that she fall apart now than later.

* * *

Fox had been expecting Matsuri's breakdown for about a week now and had been preparing for what she and Spadille had agreed was the best course of action to take. This meant getting the local carpenter to build a new bed, buying a new futon to put in the children's room –unlike Fox, Matsuri was a little touch-shy but preferred to share a bedroom with others but then again Matsuri had never killed others in her sleep with her Ability either– and telling the children about the new addition to the family. She also told Makino that her husband had rescued a young woman from a nasty situation and was bringing her here so she could recover and feel useful. Makino agreed that some people were truly despicable and that it was very gallant of Spadille to intervene, then joked that it was about time Fox' husband saw about getting her some help around the house. What with the pirates hanging around Luffy was more of a handful than ever before, Orchis had suddenly become much more assertive and the twins oscillated between vanishing for days at a time and badgering the Red-Hair Pirates about all manner of things, from how to repair a ship to funny stories of things they'd seen to sparring matches. Ace was currently sporting an impressive shiner courtesy of Yassop, who despite being a sniper swung a mean fist.

Makino also commented on how nice it must be for Fox to spend time with an old friend, which the blonde agreed to without further comment: the villagers were all convinced Beckman was a childhood friend of hers, which Fox encouraged as it stopped people from noticing Blaze's rather pronounced resemblance to Shanks. The power of belief was astounding indeed: to the village her boys were twins and since Ace looked so much like Spadille then any resemblance between Blaze and Shanks had to be purely coincidental.

How that conviction had come about was rather amusing, as she hadn't done any of it: it had been all Orchis and her childish determination to have Shanks' first mate read to her again.

* * *

The morning after her romp with Beckman over two months previous to Matsuri's breakdown she'd woken up to learn that Blaze had visited while she was sleeping and let slip a few secrets. Not serious secrets and she trusted Beckman to keep them, but it still lead to a slightly difficult conversation about why exactly she had such difficulties sleeping at nights. Fox had given the first mate a heavily censored explanation of why she only really felt safe sleeping in the arms of someone strong and reliable and Beckman had then offered to come up to the house whenever Shanks didn't strictly need him for as long as the Yonko kept his crew in East Blue. He made it clear he wasn't really interested in continuing an affair, but was amenable to helping her while he could and to engaging in a spot of mutual comfort as and when needed. Fox had been utterly delighted –she hadn't expected anything beyond a single night of passion– and initiated another round of 'thanks' that lasted until she sensed Luffy waking up and had to stop drawing things out as she needed to go and make breakfast.

After breakfast Beckman left to find his captain and make sure the Yonko hadn't done anything _too_ stupid in the first mate's absence and Fox picked up Luffy and Orchis' lessons again. A day off every now and then was all very well, but routine was healthy for children. Blaze and Ace told her they'd be back in a few days' time then vanished off up Mt. Colubo; Fox knew they were visiting Grey Terminal as well as the forest and hoped they weren't getting into too much trouble.

After lunch Luffy had vanished off to look for Shanks, so Fox asked Orchis what she wanted to do in the afternoon. Her daughter's answer had surprised her:

"I want Uncle Beckman to read to me!"

Fox had blinked, smiled and suggested Orchis pick out a few books to take down to Party's Bar and ask Beckman in person. Her dazzlingly brilliant but rather shy daughter had beamed up at her, then dashed off to raid the library in a rush of flying feet and plum-coloured hair swirling behind her. The four-year-old had returned under a minute later, three smaller books piled on top of the massive illustrated encyclopaedia of the wildlife of the four Blues, which Orchis could barely even _lift_ yet adored for all she couldn't read most of the kanji. Fox quickly rescued the books, noting her other choices were 'Exploring Little Garden' which was an immensely popular children's book she'd written full of pictures of dinosaurs and other prehistoric wildlife, 'One Little Sea King' which was a quietly subversive illustrated story told in blank verse about a very small sea monster and his –child-friendly– adventures on the Grand Line, and a pristine copy of 'Seeking Freedom'.

"Aren't you going to take your own copy, little flower?" Fox asked. Orchis shook her head vigorously.

"Uncle Beckman doesn't have a copy, so I'm giving him this one." She looked nervous for a moment. "Is that okay Mummy?"

Fox smiled down at her daughter as she loaded the books into a little backpack. "It's perfectly fine, sweetie. It's very generous of you to think of other people but always remember to ask me before giving other people our books, okay?"

"Yes Mummy."

Fox kissed Orchis on the forehead, helped her put her shoes on and slip the backpack straps over her shoulders. "Remember to mind Makino-san and to come home in time for tea," she said as the four-year-old dashed out the front door, bright and determined in a way that was as new as it was utterly delightful. Orchis had always been so terribly shy and quiet around strangers that this sudden change was a bit startling, but Fox could tell her daughter was happy and that was all that mattered.

* * *

Shanks sat quietly inside Party's Bar, slowly eating the breakfast Makino had provided and drinking water. There wasn't any alcohol left at all –he and his men had drunk every last drop– so all the pirates present were quietly nursing their hangovers and waiting for the pain to pass. Well, all but one of the pirates present: Benn Beckman was lounging in his chair, a lazy grin on his face and an absent look in his eye as the cigarette in the corner of his mouth slowly burned down. Beckman's presence was causing Shanks some serious mental conflict right now, as his first mate had _not_ arrived at the bar until rather _late_ in the morning, meaning that after Shanks had left Fox's home the previous afternoon to dilute his confusion with alcohol Beckman had been left alone with the gorgeous blonde who had been extremely responsive to his first mate's attentions in spite of her married state. Which considering how chipper Beckman was now, suggested they'd fucked like bunnies for half the afternoon and most of the night. That did not sit well with the Yonko at _all_ , to be perfectly honest. It wasn't like Beckman to do something like that and he didn't think Fox was the kind of woman to cheat on a husband she clearly adored, if her children and village rumour were anything to go by. So there had to be something more to the matter and he was missing it.

"Feeling better now captain?" Beckman asked mildly.

Shanks thought about it. His head didn't hurt as much and he had a full stomach, so yes he did feel better. "Moderately so," he conceded.

"Good, because Fox's older boys asked me to talk to you on their behalf," Beckman said in low tones, stubbing out his cigarette and rising to his feet to walk over to the bar and lean against it next to his captain. "They're suspicious little monsters but I suppose they mean well."

Shanks suspected what Beckman _meant_ was that he had talked to Blaze, who had asked his first mate to relay something. "What do you mean, 'mean well'?" he asked.

"Well, since you crashed the swimming lesson yesterday both boys were a bit suspicious as to your motives," Beckman said blandly but quietly, lighting another cigarette, "what with you being a pirate and their mother being who she is. So Ace would like you to know that if you ever make his mother cry he will find a way to kill you and then feed your corpse to the tigers in the woods so it looks like an accident. Blaze however said that you only get _one_ chance and I can tell he doesn't think much of you at _all_ , so if I were you, I'd put a bit of effort into getting to know him properly." The first mate paused, blowing out a plume of smoke. "They really _don't_ approve of how Luffy idolises you, you know."

Shanks translated this as, _both_ boys knew he was Blaze's father and weren't even _slightly_ impressed by his behaviour so far. Vanishing less than an hour after lunch to get drunk was a pretty poor first impression actually, especially since he'd been in mild shock ever since finding out he _had_ a son and had probably looked like a fool with the way he kept blushing and staring when Fox did things he hadn't been expecting. He didn't know her at _all_ and reality was quite startlingly different to what he might have expected if he'd ever thought about her for more than a few minutes at a time.

Looking back on the previous morning with a dispassionate eye, Shanks guessed that Fox had absolutely no concept whatsoever of physical modesty. How she'd managed to avoid acquiring it was a puzzle for another day, but it meant she'd probably raised her kids to not see nudity as anything special either. Therefore his very obvious embarrassment had been considered both groundless and strange by all four children. The lack of body modesty also explained why Blaze had expected him to help Fox wash her hair, where he had made a fool of himself _again_ –though Beckman had _not_ helped him there– then run off into a bottle immediately afterwards.

"One chance?" he repeated quietly.

"I had to talk him into it," Beckman replied equally quietly. "He doesn't think you care."

Shanks cringed. Oh, he had made a right mess of this parenting thing and on his first day, too. He carefully pushed his plate out of the way then let his forehead fall onto the hard, wooden surface of the bar with a thump. It jarred his hangover horribly but the stabbing pain in his temples did nothing to distract from the horrible sinking feeling in his gut. "I'm an idiot," the Yonko muttered miserably.

"He said that too," Beckman agreed.

Shanks glanced up at his first mate from under the brim of his hat. "He did?"

"His exact words were, 'He may be my father but he's an idiot; if he cared he'd be here, but he isn't so he doesn't,' and I couldn't exactly argue with his reasoning," Beckman informed him in coolly deliberate tones. Shanks felt his blood freeze and his stomach turn to lead as his shoulders sagged under the weight of the words his first mate had relayed. He felt like a complete failure; his own _son_ thought Shanks didn't give a shit about him or about his mother.

"I also discovered that Fox has a mild phobia of sleeping alone and reacts very violently unless awoken in a specific manner," Beckman went on in the same cool, quiet tones, lighting another cigarette. "Talking to her afterwards, I found out she was very badly treated by her caretakers when she wasn't much older than her boys are now and it makes it very hard for her to sleep when she doesn't feel safe." This meant most of the time, Shanks deduced miserably, since she was all alone out here with her kids depending on her and her husband off doing whatever he was doing. That Blaze was the son of a wanted pirate and Luffy the grandson of a Marine Vice-Admiral could only make her fears worse. Her kids had to know about that problem because they would _need_ to know how to wake her up safely, which in turn would make the twins incredibly protective of their mother. A mother he hadn't shown any signs of giving a damn about. The Yonko closed his eyes in shame. He had a lot of ground to make up in order to even reach neutral territory, let alone get his son to trust him.

"I've a lot to make up for then," he said seriously, sitting upright on his stool. He _would_ make up for it. Shanks wasn't going to let his son think he didn't love him or that he didn't sincerely admire the boy's mother for bringing Blaze into the world and raising him into such a strong and responsible young man.

Beckman inclined his head in agreement and went back to his usual table as Makino walked back out from the back room to take Shanks' plate and tell him that she'd placed a new order of alcohol for the bar, but it wouldn't come through for the better part of a week. Shanks assured her that it was no problem, accepted another glass of water and starting thinking very hard about what he could do to win his son –and his son's twin– over after his disastrous first impression.

* * *

Shanks spent the latter half of the morning deep in thought and would have continued into the afternoon, but Anchor dashed in right after lunch acting as though nothing had changed, so Shanks made the most of the opportunity and teased the six-year-old about his continued inability to swim. However ten minutes in, just as he was starting to feel more his usual cheerful self, the bar doors swung open and Orchis dashed in, a disproportionally large backpack on her back.

"Hello, Orchis-chan, what brings you here?" Makino asked as the adorable purple-haired four-year-old looked around the bar with wide, equally purple eyes. The little girl ignored the barkeep, her face lighting up as she dashed over to stand next to Beckman, positively vibrating with eagerness.

"What is it, Orchis-chan?" the first mate asked with a smile.

The little girl hesitated, slipped off her backpack with a thud then looked up at him pleadingly. "Will you read to me please, Uncle Beckman?" she asked, her high voice carrying right across the room.

Several of the Red-Hair Pirates choked or spluttered and behind the bar Makino's eyes widened, but Beckman didn't even flinch.

"I don't see why not," the first mate said easily. "Any book in particular?"

Orchis beamed, scrambling up into his lap and dragging the backpack up after her. Beckman took it off her and set it on the table; Shanks noticed his first mate's slight surprise at the weight. That backpack was heavier than it appeared. Those were some heavy books the little girl was carrying.

"Mummy said I should bring several, so I did," Orchis said earnestly, "and I brought you a present!"

"Oh?" Shanks was interested now. "You got my first mate a present?"

Orchis glanced at him sideways, her eyes flicking onwards to Makino then back to Beckman as she reached into her bag and pulled out a book. Beckman accepted it, glanced down at the title then back at the four-year-old.

"I thought this was your copy?" he asked. Orchis shook her head.

"No, this is a different one: Mummy said it was okay so it's yours now." She glanced up at Beckman's face, her expression anxious. "Do you like it, Uncle Beckman?"

"Very much thank-you, Orchis-chan," Beckman said, ruffling her hair fondly as he turned the book around so his captain could see the title written on the cover. Shanks read the words 'Seeking Freedom' and blinked, startled. A banned book? _That_ banned book? And the kid had her own copy at home? Well, technically the World Government's censorship laws meant it was only illegal to print, publish and sell banned books. Actually _owning_ them wasn't illegal per se, though it did generally invite the local authorities to take a good hard look at you, your associates and activities. "Do you want me to read it to you?" His first mate went on, meeting the four-year-old's eyes with a gentle smile.

Orchis beamed. "Please Uncle Beckman? I've got other books too though," she added scrupulously, "if you'd rather read me those."

"Let's have a look at what else you brought then," Beckman said, stubbing out his cigarette and opening her bag. "Well, this is a very big book. It must be heavy."

"Not _very_ heavy! Mummy says I'm her big strong girl!" Orchis protested. "It's just difficult because it's so big I can't pick it up properly."

It was a _big_ book; Shanks was impressed. "What is it?" he asked.

Orchis turned again, her plum-coloured hair flying around her face as she glared at him. "It's the illustrated 'cyclopaedia of the animals in the four Blues," she informed him loftily, "and it's my favourite book." She glanced back up at Beckman pleadingly. "I can't read most of the kanji yet though, so can you read me some? I like learning new words."

Shanks considered the contrast between Luffy and Orchis, one loud and hyperactive and the other quiet and intellectual. He suspected the four-year-old knew more about reading kanji than Anchor did.

"What other books did you bring?" the Yonko asked, his curiosity now thoroughly piqued. Orchis glanced warily at him again, then produced two more books.

"Oh hey!" Luffy said suddenly, joining the conversation and hurrying closer to his sister. "That's the one with the dinosaurs in, isn't it? That's such a cool book!"

Orchis snatched the book out in question of her brother's reach. "No! Uncle Beckman is reading to _me_!" she insisted fiercely.

"Aww, please?" Luffy protested with a pleading pout. "I wanted to ask Shanks if he'd ever seen dinosaurs!"

"No!"

Beckman gently took the book away from Orchis and looked at the cover. "I don't think we've ever been to Little Garden, have we captain?" he asked clearly, quieting the impending argument.

"Nope!" Shanks said cheerfully. "It is on the Grand Line though. We'll have to stop by sometime."

"Well I think I'll read this one first then, so I know what to expect for when we _do_ go there," Beckman said calmly, opening the book. Orchis brightened instantly and Luffy climbed up onto the table so he could lean against the first mate's arm and see the pages. Shanks found the sheer domesticity of the image disturbing and was rather jealous that Beckman had managed to completely win over the little girl who had suddenly switched from being incredibly shy to fervently disliking him. That just wasn't fair! Even Anchor had abandoned him!

"I didn't realise your first mate knew Fox," Makino said, clearly interested as Beckman started reading to his enthralled audience. "Orchis isn't like that at all except around her immediate family."

"I didn't think he knew her either," Shanks admitted in slight confusion, as he was pretty sure Beckman had never seen the blonde before in his _life_ until they docked at Fuusha.

Makino smiled. "Well it's always good to meet old friends."

Shanks smiled up at the cute barkeep. "Making new ones is fun too," he said cheerily, making her dimple back at him.

* * *

By the end of the week everyone in Fuusha was convinced Fox and Beckman had been childhood friends, which Shanks _knew_ was a complete load of bull but did not gainsay as it gave him the opportunity to spend time with his son and said son's twin in the following weeks and months without attracting suspicion. The Yonko may have been an easy-going soul and a consummate party-lover but that didn't mean he didn't know when to be serious and getting to know his son was definitely something he had to take _very_ seriously indeed.

Both boys were very hard to pin down: one day they'd be in the village, the next they'd vanish up into the woods and not be seen for half a week until they returned with a gigantic bear, tiger or crocodile corpse slung between them. Shanks had watched Fox skin and dress the massive carcasses –how _was_ the local wildlife getting that big? This wasn't the Grand Line! – and had to admit she certainly knew how to handle a knife; that kind of dexterity and precision was rare. Watching her patiently walk Ace though the process had been just as interesting, as Fox had spent the whole session explaining what to do differently on different animals and why, as both twins listened attentively and asked questions.

Blaze then asked about people and Shanks found himself pulled into an intensely disturbing lesson on human anatomy with himself as the model. He wasn't sure he wanted to know how Fox knew where the best places to stick a knife in someone to disable a limb or kill quickly and silently, but recognised the knowledge might well save his son's life some day so he contributed what he could from his own experience and was rewarded by both boys' increased respect afterwards. That Fox knew _exactly_ how to hold a knife at someone's throat so that the slightest movement would cause the captive to sever their own carotid was a puzzle for another day. Well, it wasn't like he'd ever asked her what she used to do for a living, was it? He was however getting a disturbingly good idea of the kind of things she'd been getting up to before marrying and his respect for Spadille went up. The man had guts to propose to a woman with that _particular_ skill set, even if he was hardly ever in the village.

Another matter that Shanks was deliberately letting lie was the exact nature of Fox and Beckman's continuing relationship, as the whatever-it-was they had going on had _definitely_ reached the point it could be called that. Whenever they were in the village Beckman spent about two thirds of his nights in Fox's home and Blaze, Ace and Luffy were calling him 'Uncle Beckman' too, but in public the first mate and the enigmatic blonde just acted like siblings or crew-mates, occasionally skirting the line between teasing and flirting but rarely crossing it. It made Shanks doubt his own sanity just thinking about it, leading him to wonder if the two actually had sex at all or just spend their nights cuddling, chatting and exploring Fox's book collection, which was entirely possible as going by their conversations Beckman was enjoying both the library and intelligent conversation immensely.

He'd eventually extracted from Orchis why she had decided Beckman was her uncle and learned that 'uncles' stayed for lunch, dinner _and_ breakfast when they visited. Fox apparently occasionally invited people over for lunch _or_ dinner, but breakfast was strictly for family. Beckman had been there at breakfast so Beckman was family. He also learnt the only other uncle Orchis had was Fox's brother –Luffy's father perhaps? – who only visited once a year for a day or so. Considering the dearth of male role models in the little girl's life, Shanks couldn't be all that surprised that the plum-haired four-year-old had latched onto Beckman. Fox's husband apparently visited every month or so, but rarely for more than just overnight and the Red-Hair Pirates had so far been away every time he stopped by, which Shanks wasn't sure whether he was grateful for or not. The avoidance could be coincidental but the repeated reminders that Fox was married to Spadille and that Shanks had gotten Spadille's wife pregnant were not at all pleasant.

Then on returning to Fuusha in the middle of September Shanks wandered into Party's Bar to find Makino bubbling with the news that Spadille had been there for all of the previous week, departed earlier that very morning and had left with Fox a very frightened and unhappy young woman who all the children had promptly adopted as their big sister.


	8. Domestic

**Domestic**

Caring for Matsuri was not so much difficult as energy intensive: the former slave was suffering from what Law would have called 'complex post-traumatic stress disorder' and Fox herself privately termed 'having been _comprehensively_ fucked up'. She'd been through it herself after her own enslavement and it had taken her several years to get her feet back under her and a further decade before she really felt healed and fully her own person. True, she hadn't been sexually abused like Matsuri had, but there had been a myriad of other kinds of trauma to heal from and the loss of her nakama had ripped her psyche apart in a way that probably would have killed her had it not been for her Devil Fruit and rigorous assassin training. Her mother however hadn't stinted on supporting her and had ensured she had all the needed help and her father had also done his best, though he'd made a few glaring mistakes such as killing all of her one-night-stands and most of her lovers prior to her getting involved with Zoro and Spadille. But he too was human.

Everyone was different; as Matsuri had not gone through exactly the same things she had the other woman would show different symptoms and experience different problems, but Fox intended to do everything she could. Hopefully her children would be able to help, as Spadille had noticed that Matsuri had no problem interacting with pre-pubescent kids and was in fact protective of them. Hopefully by the time the twins hit puberty Matsuri would be recovered enough that their change in status would not completely alienate them from her and help her to see that not everyone old enough to be interested in sex was abusive.

The dancing girl had clung to Spadille because she could tell he was the possessive type, but she had still expected him to hurt her and want her to have sex with him. When he hadn't she'd assumed it was because she was in some way inadequate and when she'd finally been persuaded that he cared for her deeply even without physically abusing her she'd fallen to pieces along with her entire world view. Fox was now picking up those pieces and had high hopes of the young woman's recovery. It would be a long, slow process though. Nearly a decade as a slave had left deep marks on the young woman.

Over the following months Matsuri settled into the routine of living with her captain's family, which Fox could tell the petite woman found slightly unreal. Part of that was due to the dancer's past trauma, but Fox recognised that her own perception of normality was not quite in line with other people's understanding of it, so that was also a factor. Fox had been raised mostly by mermaids –her mother _was_ one– for the years leading up to her enslavement and what mermaids considered normal was not quite the same as the human perception; having Shanks' crew as babysitters had honestly been just as bad, since pirates and civilians had very different perceptions of the world.

* * *

The first thing Fox had done when Matsuri arrived had been neatly flay the Hoof of the Dragon from the little dancer's back and heal the resulting wound. The young woman had wept after a session with two mirrors had proved to her conclusively that she was free from the long reach of the World Nobles and was no longer less than human. The delicate little Wano native had instantly been adopted by Fox' own brood and it soon became a common sight to see Luffy dragging the twenty-year-old dancer along with him as he went shopping or Orchis glaring at somebody for accidentally upsetting 'Nee-chan'; generally one or another of the Red-Hair Pirates, whom Matsuri was very wary of. Well, mostly wary of: Beckman she could deal with so long as Fox was in the room or at least the general vicinity, though she watched like a hawk when the first mate read to or played with Orchis. Fox had given Beckman an idea of what the dancer had been through, so the tall pirate ignored the dancer's suspicious gaze and acted as though he wasn't being stared at. Shanks was someone Matsuri could just about cope being around so long as he didn't look at her, so Fox encouraged her to sit in whenever Red-Hair was getting to know the twins better. The short, almond-eyed woman did watch, but generally from up a tree or through a window rather than actually straying within the Yonko's reach.

After putting the children to bed every evening Fox spent an hour or two listening to Matsuri, sharing her own experiences and using her Ability to reinforce every tentative step forward the young woman made. There were many breakdowns, crying jags, irrational moments and panic attacks, but Fox was at Matsuri's side in a flash whenever something went wrong and did her utmost to face every little issue as it surfaced. It was exhausting but their little blossom was definitely getting better at dealing with the day-to-day.

By November Fox deemed Matsuri's recovery to have reached the point where training her Devil Fruit Ability would be useful. As the dancer had a rather scant formal education she had been sitting in on Luffy and Orchis' lessons and rather enjoying the experience, both learning things out of books and teaching Orchis stretching exercises and dance moves while Fox sparred with Luffy, who _still_ couldn't use the Colour of Observation consistently but was getting much better at reacting instinctively to attacks and dodging just far and fast enough. However combat training would mean setting time apart for the dancer to train privately as well as regular sessions with Fox to gauge her progress and ensure she wasn't wasting her time by attempting something that wouldn't work.

The first thing Fox had Matsuri do was make a selection of rings, which the retired assassin tested for weight, balance and aerodynamic properties. She then examined the metal the rings were made from more closely and asked if Matsuri could make any other shapes.

It turned out she'd never tried: Matsuri had been an acrobat before being sold from servitude into actual slavery and a very capable juggler, so the first thing she'd tried with her Devil Fruit had been juggling rings, as they were the bronze objects she was most familiar with other than cooking pots. This prompted Fox to hit one of the rings with the hilt of a knife and listen to the tone, which confirmed that, rather than being true bronze, the rings were somewhere between brass and bronze composition-wise. The assassin was curious as to whether Matsuri's powers were over all copper alloys and if she needed to be familiar with a material in order to replicate it, as well as if she could _only_ create alloys of copper, zinc and tin. After the blonde voiced her interest Matsuri looked thoughtful herself, biting her lower lip in a way that was utterly adorable. The little dancer eventually and tentatively suggested that she could investigate a bit, both at making different shapes and different alloys, to find out what her Ability's limits were. Fox expressed approval and admiration of the idea, gave the girl a quick hug then got her to warm up so they could spar.

Fox soon determined that the dance style Matsuri favoured belonged to the same main school as the one the assassin herself knew, which shared a foundation with the various combat styles her shishou had drilled her in. This would make it easy to teach her new pupil the offensive stances that went with the passive and defensive ones which were a natural part of the various dances. She could also teach the girl a weapon or two; versatility was important.

By the time Matsuri was starting to tire Fox had decided to teach the younger woman chakrams as a distance weapon –she would be able to conjure her own– wind and fire wheels as a close range melee weapon –again she could make her own– and the rope dart to cover the intermediate range. All three weapons would cater to her flexibility, reflexes and speed so her relative lack of physical strength would not be an issue. That she could pass the weapons off as dancing props would also be useful if she ever wanted to travel covertly.

* * *

In mid-November Shanks sailed off again for another cruise around East Blue –probably headed south to where the warmer, drier weather was– and Spadille promptly showed up two days later with a stack of documents swiped in passing from Marineford and a bag full of presents. Orchis was delighted by the books, Luffy ecstatic to get to try new food –Spadille brought him sweets and got Fox a South Blue recipe book– and the twins very pleased with the slim, battered volume titled 'Art of the Scam' that Spadille had apparently found mixed in with a shipment of banned books he'd been moving in order to keep his crew fed. Matsuri got letters from the rest of Spadille's crew and an outfit picked out by Robin –or Albatross as she was currently going by– for her birthday, which was on November the fifteenth. There was no shortage of other odds and ends either, like a jointed wooden doll for Orchis to dress up and various clockwork toys for Luffy to enjoy, as well as a set of lock picks for Blaze –which Fox pretended not to see– and a very nice pair of binoculars for Ace for the twins' public birthday. Spadille also made all the children very happy by staying for ten whole days and doing all sorts of different things with them. He went hunting with the twins, sparred with Luffy, let Orchis braid ribbons into his hair, played music every evening and taught all four children various sea shanties and piratical tunes. Matsuri played her flute as well, which Luffy in particular was awed by.

Fox's favourite part of the day however was after the children had been put to bed, as then her Kajin would lead her to their bedroom and make very clear how much he had missed her. While her understanding with Beckman was both restful and enjoyable, it couldn't hope to come close to how it felt when her fiery husband set about seducing her. Waking up in his arms was as close to peace as they could get without Zoro there with them.

Spadille had been in Fuusha for a week when Dragon showed up for his annual visit. Her brother had not yet met her husband, though Fox suspected he'd heard of Spadille from Iva. It didn't go all that badly considering, though it was a bit awkward at times.

* * *

It was late afternoon when Dragon arrived in Fuusha and the streets were deserted. Not because of the time of day, though it was getting dark, but because cold rain was falling in heavy sheets and making it impossible to see more than a few yards in any direction. The Revolutionary had not expected the weather to be quite this bad, but then again it was late autumn and Dawn Island sometimes got very wet in winter. Generally not quite cold enough for the rain to turn to snow, but freezing rain was not much of an improvement and in many ways was actually worse. He usually visited his sister in the spring or summer, but this year had been busy and he had kept putting it off until she wrote to him warning him that not showing up before the New Year would be breaking his word. Dragon didn't make many promises, but those he made he always kept and upsetting Fox was… unwise. She was brilliant, strong, loyal and kind but also had a distinctly warped sense of humour and was extremely inventive in extracting payback, so he didn't want her angry at him. She was also raising his son, which made him even more acutely aware of how much he owed her. He could have entrusted Luffy to Garp, but the boy wouldn't have been nearly as loved and well-prepared for life if he'd done that.

Luffy looked so much like Dragon's late wife it hurt sometimes, but the boy's temperament was so much like Garp's it was ridiculous. Nonetheless, Luffy was happy, strong, well cared-for and utterly carefree, so Dragon accepted that his son wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer. Rather startlingly perceptive at times, but not very bright. He didn't have a very good memory either: Dragon was resigned to generally being called 'Uncle Dragon' by his only child. Luffy usually remembered at least once a visit that Dragon was his father, but as the boy's adoptive siblings called him 'Uncle Dragon' Luffy usually did so too. Since Fox was the one raising the boy the revolutionary didn't mind that _too_ much; it wasn't like he was doing any of the things a father should for his child and in that respect Dragon was a worse parent than even Garp had been.

He did wonder about his sister sometimes though. He'd heard of her husband, both from Fox herself and from Iva, and it made him curious about what had drawn someone as quietly dangerous as his sister to a man that… outrageous. Because for all Spadille was definitely strong, caring, protective and cunning he was also very, very strange: not many straight men were willing to wear women's clothing. Fewer still fussed about the colour and cut until they were happy the dress flattered their figure. Spadille being married to Fox indicated he probably wasn't an okama but Iva's description of the massive, blue-haired man whose Ability enabled him to fly suggested he was eccentric at the very least and very possibly a D, as when Iva had asked Spadille hadn't outright denied it.

As Dragon reached the front porch of the large house he'd grown up in the door opened, letting out a blast of warm air and revealing Fox wearing nothing but a camisole and calf-length leggings.

"Let me take that," she said, reaching to take his cloak as he stepped out of the rain and hanging it just inside the door over a deep tray with other dripping coats, "and come in. You must be soaked!"

Dragon obediently stepped inside, shed his shoes and put on the pair of house shoes his sister had laid out, privately wondering at her present outfit. As long as he'd known her Fox had always worn traditional Wano-style clothing, generally in indigo or plain white, so seeing her like this was rather startling. Especially in November. When compared with her normal preferred style, her current attire –for all it was relatively modest– made her look distinctly under dressed and the camisole was _definitely_ not meant to be worn by itself. He had learned _that_ much from his brief marriage.

"Spadille's visiting," Fox said once she had closed the front door again, "which is why the house is so warm. He's in the main room teaching the kids some songs. You remember I wrote to you about Matsuri?"

Dragon nodded; he remembered. He also suspected Fox had spent part of her live enslaved or at the very least in some kind of indentured servitude; she knew more about the suffering of the oppressed than anyone who hadn't lived through it. Her strength, intelligence and general level of education suggested she'd been trained for a very _specific_ purpose by her former masters, one which offended him like nothing else. To be moulded into a tool to oppress others was a terrible thing and he was glad she had escaped. So many victims didn't.

"She's getting better but I have no idea how she'll react to you, especially since we didn't know you were coming," Fox went on, eying his damp clothing as she led the way down the hall. "She's with Spadille and the kids though so even if she is set off by something about you she should be able to hold up. Do you want to get changed? Those damp clothes can't be comfortable. I haven't cleared out your room so everything should be where you left it."

"I'll change," Dragon agreed, easily untangling the various layers of information and requests in his sister's slightly scattered chatter. Getting changed would allow him to get more comfortable and give Fox time to warn her rather fragile house guest of his presence, identity as Luffy's father and whatever other relevant information she deemed the younger woman trustworthy enough to keep secret. Fox was a startlingly precise judge of character. It also gave Dragon himself a little time to collect himself and prepare to meet his sister's husband, which was bound to be interesting. Quite possibly the 'may you live in interesting times' kind of interesting.

That his room hadn't been cleared out yet also told him that all the children were sharing a bedroom still. The Monkey family home had five bedrooms: one of those rooms belonged to Garp, one to Fox, one had gradually been converted into a library –his sister was an avid reader and writer– one was his and the last –and largest– bedroom was where the children slept. Dragon fully expected Fox to have more children further down the line, in which case his room would be cleared out and he'd have to sleep in the library when he visited. Or possibly in Garp's room, since despite visiting just once a year Dragon had thus far been a more frequent guest than his father. The remaining rooms in the house were the large kitchen, the main living room Fox used as a school room, a small washroom with adjacent toilet and a dressing room off Fox's bedroom that she had used as a nursery when the children had been younger. The large bathhouse across the yard was a fairly recent addition, one Fox had insisted upon and Garp had paid for to indulge her. The garden shed and moderately-sized storehouse had been there as long as he could remember, but had not been in use until his father brought Fox home and she planted a large vegetable patch.

Once dried off and having changed into an old, faded shirt and tan trousers, Dragon headed towards the sound of music and enthusiastic childish voices. He wasn't very good with children, but he felt it was important to try and his sister assured him that making an effort was enough.

* * *

Dragon worked with all sorts of people while setting up the Revolutionary Army. He'd met people who were quiet, dedicated and hardworking as well as unbalanced, eccentric wild-eyed individuals whose insanity was balanced only by their brilliance. Emporio Ivankov was by no means the strangest of the men who'd chosen to follow him. However the Revolutionary Dragon –as his new bounty poster proclaimed him to be– had never before had such difficulty maintaining his composure as he did now he was spending an evening with his sister, her husband and children in their home.

It wasn't that Fox or Spadille were _blatantly_ embarrassing or disturbing in their behaviour; far from it. They acted to the casual eye like a young couple who were very much in love and doted on their children unstintingly without compromising on discipline. However closer examination –which Dragon couldn't help employing after so long living on the move and hiding from the World Government– revealed minor discrepancies, oddities and puzzling details that changed the overall picture and sent his mind in bizarre and worrying directions.

When alone, Fox was reserved, gentle and pleasant, very affectionate with her children, demonstrated a keen understanding of politics and governance and had a dry wit that made him smile in spite of himself. With her husband present she was brasher, more overt in expressing her opinions, more open in her body language and flirted constantly on one level or another. She also laughed and smiled more and something about her presence blossomed so she was no longer a mere flickering shadow to his Observation Haki. Instead she shone with power, bright and fierce as a banked fire and as alluring as a candle flame to moths, tempting you to come closer yet promising certain death to those who tried. Yet in spite of radiating an aura that would have experienced Vice-Admirals instantly calling for reinforcements she snuggled in her husband's lap and giggled like a newly-wed as he played moderately decent bar tunes and sea shanties and taught their children the various rhythms of ships and the sea. Songs for raising anchor, songs for hauling sail, songs for pumping water… Spadille knew them all and more. He knew the Marine work songs, ballads of accidents and famous incidents, songs about mishaps in ports and getting robbed by pretty girls with light fingers, prison songs, slavery songs, songs for singing while getting drunk in bars and any number of piratical tunes. Most of them were new to Dragon, but then again he wasn't a pirate or really a sailor of any kind despite being captain of a very good ship. He was a revolutionary and he didn't really mingle with the kinds of people who sang those kinds of songs.

Spadille was bright, manic and cheerful; his grin never faltered as he played the oversized violin balanced on his shoulder, belted out various tunes loudly but musically, playfully teased the children and flirted with Fox. The latter activity he kept up as a constant undercurrent, all in nudges and glances as he played and sung, but in the intervals the large man put the instrument down his hands inevitably wandered over his wife's skin, sliding beneath her camisole to fondle her breasts and snaking up to tug her braids or pet her hair as he made Ace blush about his recent breakthrough in his combat training or Luffy swell in indignation at having his obsession with Red-Hair Shanks gently mocked. His haki presence however was like an ocean current: smooth and unruffled in a way that indicated irresistible forces moving strongly far below the surface. The most blatantly obvious thing about the eight-foot, blue-haired man to anybody capable of using Observation Haki however was how strongly he felt about the lithe blonde in his lap: it was _very_ clear that if they were alone in the house the couple probably wouldn't leave the bedroom except to eat. Dragon had never met anybody who radiated sexual intent so _expressively_ in his life; he'd had to deliberately shut down his instinctive use of Kenbunshoku to avoid feeling like a voyeur. He didn't _want_ to know that much about his sister's sex life, _thank-you_.

What really disconcerted Dragon however was that none of the children seemed to think there was anything odd about their father feeling up their mother in front of them. That suggested things he really didn't want to think about. Then there were the various things that emerged from paying attention to what the children were being teased _about_ : most ten-year-olds didn't even know what haki _was_ yet both Ace and Blaze appeared to be quite proficient in both Busoshoku and Kenbunshoku and were making strides in directions Dragon hadn't even realised _existed_. Blaze suddenly becoming so inconspicuous it was hard to focus on him at all was a shock, but not as much as Ace throwing a punch and creating a small sonic boom that impacted visibly with the cushion Spadille had snatched up to shield his face. That everyone else in the room seemed to think this was _normal_ was the part that made him hope Fox still kept a bottle of aged Centaurea Rum behind the plates displayed at the top of the dresser. He had a feeling he would need it: this visit already had a touch of the surreal to it and it wasn't even dinnertime yet.

* * *

On waking up the following morning, Monkey D. Dragon blinked at the strangely familiar beams of the ceiling above him before remembering where he was and why he was there. He'd slept unusually heavily, probably because his sister's house didn't have people coming and going at all hours or disturbing him because there was an urgent den-den mushi call. It was also highly unlikely that any Marines would come looking for him here and even if they did, Fox was a formidable obstacle when she chose to be obstructive. He sat up and contemplated the blank wall opposite him, taking in the sounds of children chattering, chairs being moved and the clinking of crockery. Breakfast had clearly started without him.

There was a loud thumping on the door.

"Yes?" Dragon said.

The door slid open and Luffy's tousled head popped inside. "Hi Dad! Mum said to come see if you were awake because she's made breakfast and if you don't come now Dad will eat it all because he's _really_ hungry and if you don't hurry you'll have to make your own food."

Dragon was impressed he'd managed to say that all in one breath, though slightly confused by Luffy's referring to both him and Spadille as 'dad' in the same sentence. "I just need to dress, Luffy," he said, climbing out of bed. Pyjama trousers weren't something you could wear to the table.

"Don't bother," his son said matter-of-factly, darting inside to grab Dragon by the hand and drag him out into the hall, "nobody else is dressed and if you don't hurry all the food will be gone!" It was true that Luffy was only wearing an oversized T-shirt rather than normal clothes, but Dragon was of the opinion that the rules were different for small children. He was an adult, so he really should be dressed for breakfast. But he didn't want to fight his son over this so he resigned himself to the inevitable.

However it turned out that Luffy had included Fox and her husband in his statement: his sister was wearing a nightgown under her apron, Spadille was in his underwear and neither seemed to consider their state of undress to be an issue, though Matsuri was wearing shorts and a T-shirt and trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. Dragon accepted the hot food on offer and tried to ignore the fact his sister was wearing nothing but a sheer silk undergarment that barely reached halfway down her thighs and was slit up the sides almost to her hip bones. It really was the _only_ thing she was wearing other than the apron, too: the slight translucence of the material and the way it shifted across her skin as she moved made it _very_ clear she didn't have anything on underneath it.

Fortunately breakfast was a noisy affair: Luffy was attacking his food with gusto, Orchis was talking to her father about the books she wanted him to read to her, Ace was trying to get Fox to agree to let him start training with live steel and Blaze was backing his twin up. Dragon therefore just let himself slide into the background and concentrated on his meal. It was rather warm inside, so hopefully the rain he could hear falling on the roof would ease off soon.

* * *

Dragon soon realised that it was only warm in the house: opening his bedroom window to look out let in a blast of freezing air and a shower of icy rain. The dark, overcast sky indicated the rain would not be stopping anytime soon so he quickly closed the window again, used the washbasin to clean up and dressed for the day, picking clothes that would be comfortable in the house. He never bothered to visit the village when he was in Fuusha and in this weather there was even less point that usual in going outside. Fox had a stack of information she'd withheld over the past year due to it being supposedly too sensitive to relay over den-den mushi or post, but not urgent enough for her to risk delivering it to one of the Revolution's blind drops. Dragon was privately sceptical that anything could be 'too sensitive' to send via Fox's remarkable letter cases –which were frankly _amazing_ : they were quick, highly secure and he wanted more even if some of his officers cooed over them and thought they were adorable to the point of naming some of them– but he let the matter lie. She would only give him this information in person so he had to visit, then they would spend a few hours haggling over what the information was worth to his cause and he would leave with said information and a new set of debts.

Sometimes Fox wanted physical, hard-to-find things but more frequently she wanted favours. Things delivered to certain places, names and ways to find people with certain specialties or resources, information and leverage on specific individuals or just undefined favours held against future need. Some of the favours she wanted done had benefitted the Revolution: the printing press was an extremely valuable asset and getting hold of paper to run it on wasn't too hard either. Finding a bookbinder willing to carry out large orders for the grey market –as what was being published wasn't _technically_ banned but often would be soon after hitting the streets– had been harder but well worth the effort. Dragon had later recruited a few small, independent publishers to the cause and they now had a way to provide oppressed people with information on how they were being oppressed. Mostly in the form of leaflets, but information was information.

Fox actually paid them to print her books, which was a useful source of revenue as well. Some of the books were rather interesting reads, too. Even the apparently innocuous children's stories she sent their way had slightly subversive messages threaded through them, though he doubted most people would notice. After the initial print runs on their presses a lot of her work got snatched up by larger publishing houses, though everything she wrote under certain pseudonyms got banned within months of coming out on the market. Not that this made the works any less valuable; quite the contrary in fact. The Revolution earned a good bit on the side auctioning off those books through intermediaries as all Fox cared about where _those_ works were concerned was that they reached a wide audience.

Dragon suspected his sister had quite a lot of money squirreled away against the day her heritage was discovered and she had to go to ground in a hurry. 'Seeking Freedom' was in its twentieth print run, the copies sold out within days of being released and while Fox let Dragon keep three-quarters of the sales money to pay for the expenses associated with printing and distribution as well as to keep his people fed she got the remaining quarter all to herself and the revolutionary was a little unsure where all that money was _going_. Yes, she maintained a very large and far-flung information network and that kind of thing was full of people who needed paying for their efforts, but that did _not_ account for the kind of money she was making. And that was just the income he knew about; he was positive she had other ways of acquiring funds, as did her husband and those methods were unlikely to be strictly legal.

Fox puzzled him because he didn't know what she wanted. She definitely wanted _something_ ; she wasn't one of those drifters who just went with the wind and had no personal ambitions at all. She had a goal she was working towards and a plan to get her there, a plan which required a lot of money. Publishing books was just the method she'd decided upon to make that money and the massive variety of publishable work sent their way indicated she wasn't short on resources or drive.

Dragon now suspected the plan involved her children: why else teach pre-pubescent children to harness their inner energies? That bothered him. Children should be protected and nurtured, not dragged into things even adults had difficulty with. But Fox might not see things that way. She certainly hadn't had much of a childhood so she might not see the need for her own children to have one. Although on second thought it wasn't like the older boys weren't behaving like boys should even with haki.

"Dragon?"

The revolutionary emerged from his thoughts to see his sister leaning in the doorway, now more normally dressed in indigo kosode and hakama.

"Yes, Fox?" he replied.

"Would you be willing to give my older boys a proper grounding in how the world is run?" Fox asked, her smile wry and her eyes sad. "The weather being what it is I'm keeping them in the house, but they need something challenging to stop them from getting bored and Spadille already has his hands full teaching Luffy and Orchis to write kanji."

"What will you be doing?" Dragon asked, not opposed to her suggestion but curious as to why she wasn't doing this herself. She certainly had the knowledge.

"I'm going to be cooking with Matsuri," Fox said equably. "Having a task to carry out while we discuss her past helps her to concentrate on the present and not get caught up in prior trauma."

"I don't mind teaching the twins about the evils being perpetrated by the World Government," Dragon conceded. "Where are they?"

"In the library," Fox told him, leaning forward to kiss him on the cheek. "Thank-you."

"It's nothing," Dragon said easily, not blinking at his sister's show of affection. She was very affectionate towards family and at the oddest moments sometimes.

"To you maybe," Fox countered, "but it means a lot to me."

Dragon smiled. "You are very welcome then." They had got off to a rather rocky start when Garp first brought her home but he did now love his sister dearly no matter how much she unsettled him sometimes.

* * *

Lunch was much less comfortable than breakfast even though everybody sitting at the table was fully dressed. Initially Luffy had been complaining loudly about having trouble with the writing while Orchis bubbled with joy at having learned some new words, but they both soon subsided in the face of Blaze's uncharacteristic frown and Ace's barely leashed fury. The darker twin was attacking his food with jerky movements and a black scowl than suggested he was thinking about cutting up something other than meat. Dragon wasn't sure if he was supposed to say something so he stayed silent as the oppressive aura of the twins' impotent rage strained the normally cheerful family atmosphere to the limit.

"Ace," Fox said as she put down her cutlery on her scraped plate. The dark-haired boy glared up at her.

"Yeah?" he challenged.

"After you've finished change into outdoor clothes: I think it's time I taught you to spar in all weathers."

Ace instantly shoved the rest of his food down his throat, swallowed and fled the table. Blaze eyed his mother suspiciously.

"It's raining cats and dogs out there," the redhead pointed out neutrally.

"What makes you think your enemies won't try to take advantage of the weather to get the better of you?" Fox inquired, raising an eyebrow.

Blaze paused, sighed and finished his own food before slipping off his chair and following his twin.

"Can I fight too?" Luffy begged.

"You're not old enough yet Luffy," Fox said gently. "The twins are more than three years older than you, remember?"

"Aww, please?" the six-year-old pleaded.

"No, Luffy." Fox was firm. "When you're older. You haven't even mastered Observation Haki yet so I don't want you getting seriously hurt because you didn't dodge fast enough."

Luffy pouted but subsided. "What do I get to do then?" he grumbled. "I can't practice 'cause it's raining!"

"You can practice," Fox said lightly with a naughty twinkle in her eye. "Spadille is going to clear the floor in the schoolroom a little so you get a chance to practice dodging in enclosed spaces."

Luffy's eyes widened for an instant then he crowed happily. "Wahoo! I get training!" He shouted, trying to dash off but was tripped by Spadille casually sticking his foot out. "Ow!"

"It's your turn to wash up, squirt," The large man said laconically. "You don't do the dishes, you don't get to train."

"But I want to train now!"

"If you don't do the dishes then I'll have to and you still won't get to train until they're finished," Spadille pointed out, "and then I'll be grumpy about you not doing your chores and take it out on you."

"Oh." Luffy pouted again. "But I hate doing the dishes!"

"So do I, but if we don't do it then Fox will have to do them before she starts dinner and dinner will be late." Dragon was rather impressed by the reasoning being employed; Spadille clearly knew how to handle children even if Luffy wasn't his son by blood.

"We?" Luffy brightened. "You'll help?"

Spadille shrugged. "May as well. I'll help Orchis with the drying up."

"But drying up's easy!"

"Orchis is four and you're six. Is she really that much better at chores than you are?"

Luffy swelled in indignation. "No way! I'm better! I can wash dishes! Just you watch me!" He stormed away from the table to grab a child-sized apron as Spadille stacked up the plates and Orchis grabbed a tea towel. Fox caught Dragon's eye and nodded towards the door, so he followed her out of the kitchen.

"I take it neither twin particularly enjoyed having their horizons broadened?" his sister inquired, her expression indicating she knew full well it was a rhetorical question.

"The world is not a pleasant place," Dragon said gravely. "Children are frequently better attuned to what is right and so they protest all the more strongly." Ace had been on the edge of a temper tantrum for over half the lesson and Dragon had kept a wary eye on him. He remembered one time when Ace had been two the toddler had lost his temper and given Makino a black eye. Fox had punished him for it but that unusually strong toddler was now a very powerful ten-year-old capable of using haki and Dragon hadn't been sure he could take the boy down without hurting him or damaging the house. Thankfully it hadn't come to that.

* * *

Dragon decided to watch the sparring, being rather interested in what exactly Fox was teaching her children. The yard was muddy and full of puddles and the revolutionary could tell that once the fight got started the footing would become slippery and treacherous. Ace however didn't seem to care about the abysmal weather: he was wearing shorts, a long-sleeved shirt and slipper-like shoes. His hair was plastered flat against his head and his clothes were already soaked though, but the ten-year-old's entire focus was on his opponent.

Fox was still wearing her indigo kosode and hakama but had not bothered to put on shoes; a clever move, as bare feet would get more traction in the mud than the shoes Ace had on. Her braids were coiled up on the back of her head and held in place by hair sticks and she looked completely at ease despite being soaking wet.

Blaze was crouched next to Dragon on the covered walkway that went all the way around the house, watching intently as his mother and twin squared off against each-other in the driving rain.

"This is a training exercise," Fox said eventually, "so I won't be using my hair. Hand-to-hand only, no weapons and haki is permitted. Come."

Hair? Dragon knew she'd used her hair to stop the kids from getting away from her when they were younger but hadn't realised she used it in fights, too. Though really, he should have. The range the hair provided was one thing, but it could also be used as a spear or to restrain people. Dragon wasn't certain if his sister could use a whip or if her hair could be manipulated in a similar manner, but it was something to think about.

Ace charged.

Dragon watched as the boy stumbled slightly, his feet not quite steady as he threw a punch at Fox, who dodged it gracefully and smoothly kicked her son across the yard into a tree. Ace bounced back to his feet at once, clearly having used Reinforcement to prevent himself from being damaged and attacked again, less blindly this time.

The back and forth continued for about an hour, Ace getting more accustomed to the rain obscuring his vision, the mud underfoot and the fitful blasts of wind. By the time Fox called the exercise to a halt the boy was muddy from top to toe and all the anger had gone out of him, replaced by a humming sense of purpose that Dragon hesitated to call 'calm'. Ace wasn't calm. He was however properly focused and fully in control of himself again.

"Laps of the house and garden while I spar with Blaze;" Fox said to her very dirty son, "I don't want you catching cold. Blaze, come at me."

Blaze shed his coat and shoes, vaulted over the balcony railing and zigzagged across the now extremely churned up ground of the yard, darting around as he tried to attack his mother from a more favourable angle.

Dragon was fascinated: this was a completely different kind of fight. Ace had attacked directly, charging, wheeling and dodging in between launching barrages of punches which bent the rain and made water droplets explode in midair. As the fight progressed Ace had started using the terrain, stamping hard on the ground so the mud splattered upwards and screened his movements. Blaze however moved far more lightly, his reflexes quicker and his movements more sharply controlled. His hand-to-hand style was also different: rather than heavy blows the redhead favoured a grappling style, his fingers darting out to strike at pressure points and his hands gripping joints to use his mother's momentum against her. Or at least he attempted to: Dragon could now see that Fox's style was a more practiced and fluid version of what Blaze was using and the difference in skill level was painfully apparent. Every attack was deflected, every attempt at a throw turned back on itself and some holds were escaped altogether as Fox threw the redheaded twin around the yard with the same smooth ease she had shown against Ace.

What interested Dragon was how she used the same style against two very different opponents simply by adjusting the order of stances, blocks and throws. It was clear to him that Fox was using the bare bones of a highly sophisticated and versatile combat style, sticking to moves her sons had probably seen a hundred times before and that Blaze was obviously trying to learn. Every move she used the redhead had too, so she was nominally fighting at his level. The difference in _how_ she used the moves however was where her mastery shone. It made him wonder how she would agree to fight _him_ if he challenged her. He could probably get her to agree so long as both boys were there to watch. It would even be good for them to see the level they were trying to reach, so they had something to aim for.

Dragon knew he was a highly capable fighter. However he found he rather wanted to know how Fox would fare against him. Or more pragmatically, how he stacked up against Fox: she was an assassin after all and was clearly keeping herself in top form in spite of the other demands on her time. It was more than impressive.

* * *

When Fox was satisfied with Blaze's performance she told him to run five laps and have Ace stop and come back. In the time between the muddy redhead running off and the soaking wet but much cleaner black-haired boy returning Dragon made his suggestion to Fox. She did not immediately dismiss the idea, which was rather gratifying.

"Ace, please could you go around the house and tell Spadille to get the boiler in the bathhouse working," Fox said once the dark twin arrived, "then come back here. Bring Luffy and Orchis please; they should see this too."

So Fox _was_ going to fight him. Dragon grinned. This would be fun.

Fox didn't start the spar until Spadille got back from the bathhouse and sat down between Blaze and Ace, both of whom had old towels wrapped around them. Dragon had realised by this point that Fox's husband was the source of the unseasonal warmth that pervaded the house; the way both boys relaxed a little as he got them to budge over indicated they were no longer feeling the cold as severely. Luffy was bouncing next to Ace and Orchis was snuggled into Blaze's side, watching her mother and uncle face off in the rain.

"No weapons," Fox said out loud, for the benefit of her audience rather than her opponent, "hand-to-hand and the three primary Haki Colours only." She shifted into a stance and grinned through the rain. "When you're ready, brother."

Dragon grinned back and lunged forwards. Fox slid sideways and attempted a throw, which the revolutionary countered by shifting his weight and grabbing her back, launching her over his shoulder then quickly spinning. She'd let him do that; a feign and a probe into his fighting style. He guessed that she wasn't much used to direct combat.

As he expected, she righted herself while still in midair and bounced back –off _nothing_ – and made as if to kick him in the head. He dodged, her weight shifted and then Dragon was flying backwards and breathless from a Reinforced kick to the solar plexus that he hadn't even _seen_. Quickly calling up his Kenbunshoku haki Dragon dodged two strikes, failed to dodge the third fast enough and grabbed her arm as the blow hit home. Fortunately he could use Busoshoku and Kenbunshoku at the same time, or else he's have broken ribs now. He tried to pull her closer but she dropped her weight and threw him forwards over her head instead, dropping herself in the mud even as she threw him into another patch face-first. He didn't let go of her arm though, so she had to follow him or risk a dislocated elbow.

Her retaliation came even as he twisted so that his side rather than his face would hit the mud: fierce jabs to his inner forearm that made his whole arm below the elbow go numb. She slipped out of his suddenly clumsy fingers and rolled over his back, splashing into the mud and bouncing upright again several yards away. Dragon rose to his feet with equal speed, flexing his damaged hand; he hadn't expected that and he _should_ have. Blaze had been trying to perform that very attack on her earlier so of course she knew it. Careless.

The next twenty minutes –Fox had insisted on a timed fight no longer than half an hour– were more of the same: Fox dodged his attacks and tried to stop him from grabbing hold of her while he drove her forwards and backwards and tried to pin her down. It was hard, harder still in the driving rain with the sucking mud underfoot and coating their clothes. He did manage to land a few solid hits to her centre of mass and a kick to the side of her knee which caught her off-guard, but mostly he felt like a bull trying to catch a hummingbird. Hand-to-hand clearly wasn't her specialty no matter how good she was and the hits she'd landed were all in places that would have been lethal if she'd had a knife. As it was those precise blows from the side of her hands or her fingers and the sharp blows from the palm had made him wary of the startling amount of force she could bring to bear and every time she aimed at his head and throat he blocked quickly. He managed a few more good throws and landed a solid hit to one of her kidneys before she abruptly stepped up her game and came on the offensive.

Dragon had known his sister was an assassin; she'd told him so herself the night Luffy was born. However it is one thing to be told and another entirely to find yourself facing blank, pitiless golden eyes as the feel of your opponent goes flat and empty and they react faster than you can defend yourself. The revolutionary managed to catch the blow aimed at his throat but then her foot slammed into the inside of his upper thigh and he crumpled, unable to dodge or block the palm strike that impacted his temple and filled his vision with swirling white lights and then blackness.

* * *

Dragon came around to Luffy chattering excitedly about how _awesome_ his mum was and an oddly soothing pressure on his sore temple. He opened his eyes to see Fox kneeling by his head with a slightly ashamed look on her face.

"Sorry," she said quietly as he focused on her face. "I forgot for a moment it was just a spar and I cracked your temporal bone."

Dragon had guessed that was what had happened the moment he saw her eyes go flat and empty and his idle curiosity at how they compared in a fight had been answered in full: she could kill him. Easily. He was completely outclassed even with her handicapping herself by not using her preferred combat style. Then again, this was what happened when a precision-orientated speed fighter had enough skill and power to break through a power-type's defence. He's known she had to be good; knowing she could kill him _that_ easily was very humbling and made him feel like a blind, blundering idiot considering he'd spent three years believing his father had brought Fox to Fuusha in order to spy on him.

"Cracked?" he asked. He thought it was her hand cradling the side of his face but he was a bit fuzzy in the head right now.

"I'm fixing it," Fox said shortly. "We're in the bathhouse by the way, as the twins really needed to get clean."

The antechamber, Dragon decided, since he and Fox were both still fully dressed and heavily smeared with mud. Oddly enough however his sister's hair was both clean and dry. He hadn't noticed that during his fight nor while observing the sparring between his sister and her twin sons.

"Why isn't your hair muddy?" his hair certainly was; he could feel the sticky grittiness plastered across half his scalp.

"Busoshoku haki can be put to all kinds of frivolous uses," Fox told him with a small smile, taking her hand away from his head and pulling him up into a sitting position, "some of which are actually very practical."

Using Armament Haki to prevent mud and water sticking to your hair? Well, it was original if nothing else. Dragon rose to his feet and paused, tilting his head to one side as he realised the pain in his temple was now almost completely gone and he didn't even feel dizzy.

"Your Devil Fruit can be used on others too?"

"If I'm careful," Fox said, turning her back on him and starting to wrestle with the sodden, filthy ties of her hakama. "I'd rather like to join the others before they use up all the hot water though, so can we discuss it later?"

"Of course," Dragon agreed, amused in spite of his defeat. He rather wanted to get clean as well.

* * *

Bathing was worse than breakfast and the previous afternoon put together. Dragon was well aware that his sister had no physical modesty whatsoever –probably a product of her conditioning while being trained– and he had bathed with her and the children before, but adding Spadille sent the whole dynamic sideways as he had even less sense of body modesty than Fox did and saw nothing wrong with feeling his wife up in a leisurely manner as he 'helped' her get clean. Then the eight-foot, blue-haired man decided Fox was overstressed after her accident while sparring with Dragon, laid her out on some towels next to the hot pool and started giving her a back massage.

Dragon initially didn't have much of a problem ignoring the shamelessly sensual couple as he was washing mud out of his hair, but getting dragged into the hot pool by an eager Luffy who wanted to know more about his 'cool moves' placed him close enough to be able to hear ever gasp, grunt and moan his sister made as her husband worked over her back. The revolutionary had never before been so grateful for his son's loud curiosity and focused his own attention on explaining to the children some of the simpler moves and the theory behind some of his strategies. His primary audience was Ace, who would likely fight in a similar manner once he was fully grown, but Blaze paid attention too and asked pertinent questions and Orchis was interested in some of the kicks he had tried.

Dragon let himself be drawn out, conversation being infinitely preferable to having to listen to his sister being seduced by her husband less than five feet away. And yes it _was_ seduction because seduction was about intent and Spadille was broadcasting _again_. The revolutionary was honestly surprised Fox only had one child by her husband so far if he was like this every time he visited.


	9. Urges

**Urges**

Alvel chuckled quietly as he sharpened the blade of his scythe while around him the rest of Whitebeard's crew sat quietly in small groups, tending to weapons, doing chores or babying hangovers. It had been well over a month since Spadille's last visit but certain members of the crew had yet to fully recover. Marco in particular: Whitebeard's blue-haired son had really outdone himself in coming up with a truly _memorable_ birthday present for the First Division Commander. A shame most of his brothers had been in no state to appreciate the lengths Spadille had gone to once they realised what they were seeing, much less the implications of some of his actions. Himself included, to be perfectly honest. There had been an overwhelming need to get drunk –even the nurses had overindulged.

* * *

Marco's birthday was on the fifth of October, and since he was First Division Commander and one of the double handful of Whitebeard Pirates who'd been with Pops ever since he started out everyone had chipped in to buy lots of alcohol for the party they had planned for the evening. There was enough on board to get even _Shanks_ drunk had the Yonko stopped by and Red-Hair was legendary for his alcohol tolerance. Several bartenders claimed to have had their entire stocks drunk dry by him at one point or another and that Red-Hair had walked out the door afterwards. However before the party could start all the normal everyday things had to get done and Alvel had been overseeing a few members of his Division scrubbing the main deck when he'd noticed one of Pops' nurses approaching Marco. The Fourth Division Commander had been a little puzzled though, as despite the woman wearing the pink mini-dress and thigh-high leopard-print boots common to all the nurses who tended to the aging pirate captain she hadn't seemed familiar. Seriously, Alvel would have remembered a woman with a figure _that_ spectacularly curvy and the deep blue hair falling to mid-back was utterly stunning. So he'd watched the full-figured nurse sashay towards the oblivious First Division Commander, hips swaying sexily with every step until she came to a stop right behind him. Alvel had then noticed she was a good ten inches taller than Marco with the heels, which was unusual: she had to be nearly seven feet tall in bare feet.

"Oh Marco?" She called. Alvel noted that she even had a sexy voice: a throaty contralto that was made for pillow talk.

"Hm?" The First Division Commander turned and his eyes widened. Alvel wasn't surprised: Marco was just about on eye level with that fabulous cleavage and the nurse's uniform had a tauntingly low neckline. The view was pretty amazing even from Alvel's more distant vantage point. The blond Zoan paused noticeably, then finally looked up to meet the nurse's eyes. "Can I help you, nurse?"

The nurse didn't actually answer, but bent down and kissed Marco right on the mouth with considerable enthusiasm which the First Division Commander wasted no time in reciprocating as around them everyone who'd been watching hooted and wolf-whistled. Alvel guessed this was some kind of birthday surprise and was rather envious: the bluette was _hot_. He couldn't work out why he'd never spotted her on board before.

Marco finally pulled back, letting go of the nurse's shoulder and breathing heavily with a very satisfied look on his face.

"Happy birthday," the nurse purred, a wide and highly satisfied grin on her face as her bosom heaved.

Marco smirked. "Thanks," he said, then blinked. Alvel wondered what the problem was as the First Division Commander stared at the bluette nurse's face for a few seconds, then when white. Stark, horrified white. "You, you-" The zoan stammered.

"Yes Marco?" The nurse smirked wickedly and Alvel suddenly recognised the expression. That was _exactly_ how Spadille looked whenever he'd managed to prank the First Division Commander. Blue hair, manic grin, freckles across her nose and cheekbones; The Fourth Division Commander abruptly had a _bad_ feeling about this woman.

" _Spadille!_ " Marco screeched, eyes bulging. The watching Whitebeard Pirates all choked as the nurse laughed out loud, the mad, manic gurgles all too familiar even when an octave higher than usual.

"Rahahahahaha!" She paused to wipe away a tear and caught the stunned blond's eye. "Glad you liked your present." Then she fled, startlingly nimble on the three-inch heels as Marco instantly gave chase, his shock having morphed into outraged fury.

"Get back here you okama bastard!"

Spadille laughed again, briefly jumping up into the rigging to shed the thigh-high stiletto boots with disturbingly _practiced_ ease then dropping down to zigzag much faster across the deck in stocking feet. "I assure you I'm _all_ woman right now Marco! Iva saw to that!"

Marco stumbled. "Iva? As in Emporio Ivankov?"

"You know any other Iva who could have done this?" Spadille asked, turning to cup his –her? – very large breasts and flutter long eyelashes at the frazzled zoan.

"You had the Okama King turn you into a woman?!" Marco yelled. "What the hell _for_ , you blue-haired lunatic?!"

Spadille pouted and folded her –because really no-one could possibly look like _that_ and still be considered male– arms under her bust, considerably increasing the amount of flesh visible through her plunging neckline. "It's your birthday Marco. I thought you'd like a kiss from a sexy woman and believe me, there are few women out there sexier than _this_ ," she gestured at the fabulous hourglass figure the mini-dress uniform did nothing to hide. Alvel would have to admit in retrospect that there was startlingly little arrogance in what she said.

"But, but," Marco stammered.

"And you _did_ enjoy it," Spadille went on ruthlessly with an unsettling glint in her eye, "so I really don't see what your problem is. The only woman I've ever seen better looking than me is my wife and I wasn't going to bring her here to kiss you on your birthday. Well, not _this_ year," she amended thoughtfully, "since she's kinda busy right now but I am going to have to introduce you sooner or later. Preferably sooner since I want to see what she thinks of my family. I have a bet going with the nurses about who she'll like best out of my various siblings."

Marco had by now completely given up on trying to catch his blue-haired, sister-shaped brother and was just staring in utter incomprehension, eyes wide and jaw sagging. He wasn't the only one: most of the pirates on deck seemed to be experiencing profound mental confusion and Alvel himself could feel a migraine coming on.

"You," Marco managed after a few second of total silence, "are _insane_."

Spadille raised an eyebrow. "Why do you think that? Because I am behaving in a way consistent with the gender of my current form? Iva does good work you know; gender preference is largely body chemistry and right now I am female all the way through." She gave Marco a very obvious once-over. "I now actually _understand_ why you're so popular with the ladies."

Marco flushed then blanched and choked at the innuendo, before fleeing belowdecks at speed, a good number of his brothers following in his wake.

Spadille pouted. "Was it something I said?"

Alvel didn't answer. Where to begin answering _that_?

Thankfully Pops' nurses had rescued those pirates still on deck from their lunatic bro- _sister_ and escorted her off to their station next to the old man's cabin, ostensibly to chat. Alvel wasn't sure what they'd talked about and wasn't sure he wanted to know; the party had started early as everyone wanted to get drunk sooner rather than later after Spadille's latest stunt, the birthday boy in particular. Even the Fourth Division Commander needed some alcohol to help him process this latest insanity: he'd initially thought it was just a prank but had slowly realised Spadille had been _serious_ , which suggested something was very wrong somewhere in their brother's head, at least while he was sister shaped. Possibly before as well, but contemplating _that_ wasn't worth the headache it would inevitably bring.

Things had actually gotten _worse_ later in the evening, as after the alcohol had really started flowing and his brothers and sisters had started to recover a little Spadille accompanied Pops up on deck, climbed up onto the man's knee so she could kiss his cheek then sauntered across the deck and swung herself over the ship's railing. This was a total nightmare because, now he was feeling slightly buzzed, Alvel was unable to prevent his libido from noticing the sexy sway of his brother-turned-sister's hips as she moved with the utterly confident stalk of a woman in heels who _knows_ she looks completely fuckable and the hypnotic bounce of her breasts in counterpoint. Judging by the sudden increase in activity near the sake barrels, he wasn't the only person suffering. Even Pops looked a little distant.

"More drink?" Alvel looked up to see a –thankfully familiar– nurse holding a tray of full mugs.

"Bless you," Alvel said fervently, accepting one before suddenly realising how unusual it was for the nurses to offer them _more_ alcohol; they usually tried to persuade the pirates to drink less. His confusion must have been visible, because the nurse smiled wryly and perched on the step next to him.

"Did you know that Spadille knows more about hair-care on board ship than I do?" she commiserated, lifting a full mug to her lips and taking a generous swig.

Alvel considered this fact, then took a very large swallow from his new mug. "I could have died happy without ever learning that," he informed his new drinking partner calmly.

"So could I," she agreed solemnly, rising her mug. "To forgetfulness."

A toast Alvel could agree with. "To forgetfulness!"

* * *

Now that the shock and jarring incomprehensibility of Spadille's idea of an appropriate birthday present had been suitably numbed by time and alcohol Alvel was mostly recovered, though he did hope their crazy brother would not see fit to repeat _that_ stunt any time soon. Marco had been shocky for most of a week and still jumped when the nurses got too close. He would have been teased mercilessly about it had there been anybody not privately feeling more than a little paranoid about what Spadille might come up with for _their_ birthdays once he found out when they were. Or what Marco might do to people who tried to tease him about _this_ , since he clearly did not find anything about his recent experience remotely amusing. Alvel had to agree that, if the trauma Spadille had just inflicted on the Whitebeard Pirates was the sort of thing he did to people he liked, he did _not_ want to know what the blue-haired man would do to people who pissed him off. In fact, he didn't even want to be in the vicinity.

* * *

One chilly February afternoon Thatch sat on the railing of the Moby Dick with his legs dangling over empty space, staring down at the waves lapping against the hull far, far below. Alvel, his Division Commander, was dead. Not in battle either: he'd had a severe allergic reaction to something on the last island and died gasping helplessly for breath as his body destroyed itself. The nurses had been too late to save him. They weren't even sure what had killed him. But before dying –and Alvel had _known_ he was dying the instant his skin inflamed and he puffed up like a balloon– his Commander had managed to gasp out that he wanted Thatch to take over the Division. The rest of his brothers and the other Commanders had approved the choice so now Thatch was the Fourth Division Commander just three days after Alvel had been declared dead.

They hadn't buried him on the island where he died; Thatch could not have stood leaving his Commander behind in the place that had killed him. They'd buried him at sea instead.

Thatch didn't move as someone slightly larger than he was climbed up onto the railing beside him, but was forced to react as whoever it was –Thatch didn't care enough to use Kenbunshoku Haki right now– wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him halfway into their lap. The ginger struggled briefly before recognising who'd just grabbed him and gave up; Spadille was not worth fighting and relentlessly tactile. If the blue-haired man wanted to hug Thatch, Thatch would not get free until Spadille decided it was time to let go.

"My adoptive father died trying to rescue me from the Marines," Spadille said quietly, just loud enough to be heard over the wind and the sounds of their brothers on deck behind them. "I'd been sold out by another member of his family but he came after me. Him, his sons and my sisters all trying to get me back."

Thatch didn't know anything about Spadille's past other than that he'd had a sister who was a mermaid and who had died rescuing him from the Marines. He didn't say anything, glancing up at the blue-haired man who was staring out across the water with empty eyes as his hand on the ginger's shoulder tightened.

"He died," Spadille said quietly, "believing he'd failed to save me. If my wife-to-be hadn't been passing through and grabbed me at the last moment I'd be dead. None of my other siblings are around anymore either. All my kin lost to me because of one man's greed and my father's blood in my veins."

What could Thatch say to that? Spadille had clearly loved his family dearly and though he was Pops' biological child Whitebeard certainly hadn't raised him: that much had been clear from their first meeting. Losing everyone like that… Spadille probably felt _beyond_ guilty.

"My Kitsune spent three days putting me back together and it took me years to recover," Spadille went on. "Without her and our Asura I'd be dead. I didn't have much left to live for."

"Kitsune?" Thatch suspected he knew who his brother meant but Spadille had never uttered his wife's name before.

"My wife," Spadille said quietly, voice barely more than a whisper. "Asura's our husband. Gods above, I wish we could find him. Being without him feels like drowning." The larger man bowed his head as a tear trickled down his cheek, followed by a matching one sliding down from his other eye a few seconds later. "I worry my wife's going to do something she'll regret without him here to balance us."

"Can't you…" Thatch trailed off. He wasn't sure what to say. Spadille was always so bright, cheerful and manic but it seemed it was partly a façade. A good one too: the ginger had never had an inkling that his brother was hiding this black, choking sorrow behind his crazy grin. Maybe part of the reason Spadille was always being so outrageous was to distract himself from his pain.

Spadille shook his head, face set. "Sooner or later someone or something is going to give us away to the Marines and I need somewhere safe to hide the kids set up _before_ it comes to that. That means having a strong crew, a safe island and allies to back us up so I _need_ to be out here ensuring we aren't left high and dry when the worst happens." He closed his eyes. "I just pray Kitsune remains sane enough to remember that the kids are far more innocent of the harsh realities than she was at their age. We're raising children, not killers."

That sounded _bad_. "Couldn't you have stayed with the kids and her gone to find somewhere to retreat to?" Thatch ventured.

Spadille laughed, the sound entirely humourless. "My wife, come out here all by herself with the goal of securing a crew and territory? No, just no: the body count would be insane and what she'd do to people in the name of 'efficiency' would have the World Government declaring war on her." He glanced sideways at Thatch, amber eyes glinting with something fey and wild. "There's _nothing_ my wife won't do to achieve her goals, Thatch. She doesn't have _any_ lines she won't cross given suitable motivation. So no, I'm not setting her loose on the world with such a vague purpose in mind. Assassins aren't given orders; you just tell them what you want achieved and then stand well back."

Spadille's wife was an _assassin_. His brother had never made a secret of how dangerous and well-trained she was, but hearing him say so openly that she had no understanding of conventional morality was frightening.

"Yet you trust her with your children?" Thatch had to ask.

Spadille shrugged. "The 'mission' as it were is to raise strong, healthy and well-adjusted adults. She can do that even though it means seriously limiting her available options if it comes to a fight. They all seem to be doing just fine and she loves them to pieces, so I'm not worried yet."

'Yet' was the key world there. Thatch shivered. "You scare me," he admitted frankly.

Spadille pouted, hurt flickering briefly across his face before vanishing behind the usual façade. "I'm not scary, am I?" he said plaintively with a wide-eyed pout that Thatch could now tell was a fake. Mostly fake.

Argh, misunderstanding ahoy! "Not like that," Thatch said quickly, "I mean, how can you be sure she's okay? That they're all okay?"

The mask melted away again and Spadille smiled, the expression softer than his usual smirks and grins. It made him look startlingly sweet. "I trust her to tell me if she's having problems," he said simply. "What's marriage without trust?"

Thatch gave up. Spadille was obviously completely smitten with his wife despite her being an amoral professional killer and the blue-haired man himself being a shameless flirt. Besides, Thatch wasn't married so he couldn't exactly comment on how his brother chose to run his life. It wasn't even as though he'd met the lady said sibling was married to; all he had to go by was what Spadille had mentioned when speaking of her, which wasn't actually very much.

"What did you come up here for anyway?" the ginger asked instead, shifting to rest his head against his brother's shoulder. If Spadille wasn't going to let go of him he might as well get comfortable.

"You looked like you needed a hug," Spadille said lightly.

Thatch considered that statement cautiously, studying it from all angles. Spadille had thought he needed a hug. So Spadille had come over, grabbed hold of him and then shared some obviously painful personal history. "That's it?"

Spadille shrugged. "People dying hurts those left behind like nothing else," he said flatly, "but you aren't the only person hurting. Enjoy what you've got while it's still there because it won't be there forever."

Thatch managed a watery grin. "Is that cryptic-speak for, 'go join your brothers, get drunk and get over it', Spadille?"

The larger man raised a haughty eyebrow. "If that's how you choose to interpret my advice then go ahead," he waved a hand, "but I just thought you should remember that Alvel would be very upset if he could see you moping like this."

Well, true. Alvel would hit him if he caught Thatch brooding like this over his death. "Okay, fine, you win," the ginger conceded, "I'll stop."

Spadille grinned, his usual cheery mask snapping back into place as he bent down to rest his forehead against Thatch's. "Wonderful." He kissed the tip of the ginger's nose. "Go have fun." He let go of the blushing Division Commander's shoulder, stood up on the railing and turned to saunter along it away from Thatch, fingers hooked in his belts and his top hat at a jaunty angle.

Thatch had to wonder if Spadille would _ever_ get tired of flirting with him like that. At least the blue-haired menace wasn't messing him about as severely as he was Marco. October had been a _nightmare_.

* * *

Marco leant casually against the railing around the upper deck of the Moby Dick, enjoying the spring breeze. He always felt more energetic in spring; it probably had something to do with his Devil Fruit. Hanging around on Spring Islands didn't set it off but every year in March, no matter where he was, Marco felt the urge to _move_ as his blood sang and his phoenix instincts longed for something he couldn't properly articulate. It wasn't sex, or at least it wasn't _just_ sex; back when he was still getting used to his Devil Fruit Marco had gone through women like water every March, but though it had burned off some of his energy it hadn't done anything about the underlying urge. Flying felt good, but it didn't help either. So he'd just learnt to put up with the feeling that he should be doing _something_ and got on with what needed doing.

A liquid, musical trill on the wind had him starting upright, staring around as within him his phoenix instincts leapt, fierce joy and desperate longing warring for dominance. Marco had _never_ heard a sound quite like it before but he knew what it was: the call of a phoenix. He hadn't thought they even _existed_. The trill sounded again and Marco shot up the rigging like a man possessed, ignoring his brothers' startlement and occasional curses as he darted up to the top of the mizzen-mast and walked out along the uppermost yard, nothing except his own sense of balance protecting him from the long drop off the narrow beam. Where was that sound coming from?

The trill sang out again and this time Marco threw dignity to the wind and trilled back, the liquid sound bubbling up in his throat and full of all the joy he felt at not being the only phoenix in existence. Yes he was human, but eating a Zoan Fruit gave you the instincts of the animal you became and no matter how much he loved his Pops and brothers and sisters a small, hidden part of him longed to be around birds made of fire.

There was a flash of yellow and a pheasant-sized bird that burned like amber flame streaked with blue dropped to land between him and the crow's nest. The bird cocked its head at him, bronze spectacle markings standing out against its flickering face as it chirped curiously. Marco ignored his brothers' sudden hushed whispering, crouched on the quarter and chirped back, grinning happily. The phoenix rose, spreading fiery wings wide and trilled again before taking flight again to circle overhead.

"Marco!" The blond zoan glanced down at the deck where Whitebeard had just emerged from his cabin, probably summoned forth by panicked siblings thinking he'd gone crazy.

"Phoenix ahoy, Pops!" The First Division Commander shouted out cheerfully, waving at the fiery avian above him. "Permission to investigate?" He _really_ wanted to follow the bird that appeared to be waiting for him to join it, but Pops was the captain.

"Gurararara!" Pops laughed, his grin broad. "Have fun, son! Take all week if you have to!"

Marco bounded upwards, taking on his full phoenix form and flying after the much smaller bird now winging its way south towards the Calm Belt as his sense of restless energy faded into calm purpose. _This_ was what he'd been feeling the urge to do every March for the past decade and a half.

* * *

The phoenix flew for several hours, leaving the Grand Line and rising higher to soar on the faint thermals that drifted up from the still waters of the Calm Belt. Marco was grateful that phoenixes were as light as the fire they appeared to be made of; if he hadn't been then the thermals wouldn't have taken his weight. They would have taken his guide's weight even if it had been a normal bird but Marco was probably well over twenty times as heavy as it was. He couldn't fly properly in his hybrid form because of the weight difference, which limited him to jumping and gliding as much as possible. His massive wings gave him a lot of lift but he did _not_ have hollow bones in his hybrid form and that made a _big_ difference.

Marco was starting to wonder if he would be led off the Grand Line altogether and into the Blues when he heard new cries on the wind and his guide dived down, speeding towards the small island that had just appeared on the horizon above which other fiery dots danced in dozens of different colours: reds, golds, greens, purples and even a few blues like himself.

An island _full_ of phoenixes; Marco couldn't believe it! He turned, diving after his guide as they were noticed and a chorus of trills going up and down the scale rang out through the still air. He carefully fixed the island's general location in his mind, taking into consideration the position of the sun and the magnetic 'feel' of the area alongside the point they'd left the New World; being more sensitive to the magnetic fluctuations around the islands on the Grand Line was frequently irritating, but it was part and parcel of being a bird zoan. It did make navigating easier once you were used to it though; no competent bird zoan needed a Log Pose to reach an island they'd previously been to.

As he drew closer he saw that the entire island was significantly raised above sea level, vertical cliffs falling well over a hundred feet down to white-tipped wavelets that betrayed the presence of rocks lurking below the surface. It appeared that the only way to get onto _this_ island was to fly, which would make it difficult if he ever wanted to bring his brothers to visit. But that was a problem for another day: for now he would make the most of this opportunity and explore this place that his instincts insisted was 'home'.

Several hours later Marco was feeling utterly at peace. As a phoenix zoan rather than a true phoenix he was much, much larger than any of the other birds here –the largest he'd seen so far was a meter long including its tail and probably weighed about six kilos– but the birds didn't seem to care and chirped, chirruped and trilled at him as though he was a long-lost relative, which they might well consider him to be. The sounds weren't exactly a language but their meaning was clear to him and he was soon singing back, loving the interaction and the feeling of safety and love that had enveloped him as he'd circled down amongst the other phoenixes.

The part of his brain that was always on the lookout for threats had identified the inexplicable sense of _belonging_ to be created by haki, some kind of backwards version of Kenbunshoku that was apparently a natural part of how phoenixes communicated; emotional projection, like Haoshoku but not. It was actually startlingly easy to adjust his own Colour of Observation to be receptive of emotion rather than intent and projecting was similarly simple. The only difficulty he could think of having with this method of communication was that it was completely impossible to lie, but animals didn't lie anyway so that was only a problem for him as a human being as opposed to a bird. He could think of all sorts of ways it could be useful though, ways he'd have to explore once he was back on the Moby Dick. Not having a clue about the animal his Ability turned him into was a handicap he'd done his best to overcome through hard work and perseverance, but he hadn't been able to do anything about the things he'd been completely oblivious of, like the newly-discovered emotional projection. It was possible he had been doing that unconsciously, but recognition was the first step to gaining control over such a thing.

He soared leisurely above the treetops, greeting the other phoenixes as he passed them. Some of them were nesting, others were courting and some were flying together high above him, spiralling around each-other in a long, complicated dance that drifted upwards before culminating in a swift plunge back down to the treetops to mate and preen. Watching those pairs –and the occasional trio– darting around each-other overhead, touching and swirling in a complex four-dimensional performance, filled Marco with a sense of rightness and a hint of wistfulness. _That_ was what he'd been yearning for all these years. Not that he was likely to find someone –he was a person not a bird– but his instincts still longed for someone to dance on the thermals with and match him move for move. Oh well; at least now he _knew_ that.

He was about to turn and circle back the way he'd come when his slightly altered Kenbunshoku Haki alerted him that he was not actually the only human being on the island: there was a person in a clearing a way ahead of him toward the centre of the island. Curious, Marco went to investigate.

* * *

It didn't take the phoenix zoan long to find the person in question: five minutes later he was heading towards the sense of human presence given away by the more complicated emotional resonance across his senses and the senses of the other phoenixes in the area. It was strange how Marco could extend his range by piggybacking the awareness of every other phoenix he could feel and then further still; it was as though every single phoenix was part of a network, a collective community that was always right _there_ despite being out of range of his conventional senses.

There were a lot of phoenixes near this human and whoever they were, they could communicate comprehensibly with the birds as though they were a bird themselves. That was strange and worth investigating. He arrived on the scene, dropped to alight gracefully in the clearing in question and looked around, then squawked in surprise: the person had their back to him, was female, naked and knee-deep in a natural hot spring. He hadn't been expecting _that_.

The woman turned and Marco shivered, unable to tear his gaze away from her luminous porcelain skin, her discreetly muscled form adorned with graceful curves and her high, firm breasts, all dripping water that caught the sunlight like morning dew. If he'd been human-shaped he'd be blushing, he just knew it; he wasn't the kind of man to ogle a woman bathing but right now his sense of propriety seemed to have leaked out of his ears along with the rest of his brains. The only thing he could think right now was, 'I wonder if she feels as good to touch as she looks?' which wasn't _remotely_ helpful right now.

Marco the Phoenix was a ladies' man and a very popular one, but he'd never wanted _any_ woman as badly as he wanted this one right now. However he recognised that women were generally _deeply_ unappreciative of people who spied on them bathing so he wasn't sure what to do. Taking on human form would probably get him slapped, so he probably wouldn't get to touch. Oh well. The view was still fabulous.

The woman sat on the edge of the spring, bringing her face down into his field of vision. High cheekbones, straight, slightly angled brows, a straight nose, rounded chin and eyes shining golden as a bird of prey. Her hair was golden too, long braids coiled up on the back of her head and held in place with hair sticks. He couldn't take his eyes off her, mesmerised by the sheer perfection of her form and the faint, flickering glow dancing under her skin. If he was human he'd be making eyes at her, but he was a bird so he automatically flicked up his crest, spread his wings and tail and strutted a few steps, showing off for the sexy lady.

The woman had been studying him as intensely as he had her, and after a few seconds cocked her head coyly and cooed, eyelashes fluttering. Marco's mouth went dry and he almost fell over; he knew the _precise_ meaning of what she'd just 'said' and couldn't quite believe it. Okay, winning that _exact_ response was the whole purpose of his little display but he hadn't expected to _get_ it!

 _Hello, Sexy! Come and get me!_

Among phoenixes, that was the equivalent of an invitation to get to know each-other better someplace private with a good chance of sex later provided you played your cards right. She'd just propositioned him! While he was phoenix-shaped!

Well, who was he to refuse a lady?

* * *

Fox had felt Marco coming well before he even saw the island; her Devil Fruit made her attuned to all forms of life and even more attuned to phoenixes as the birds _were_ life. That was part of why she'd always liked Marco back in her own world: he felt comforting. Not just comforting, but warm, safe and protective as well as sending delicious shivers down her spine in moments of extreme emotion. If he hadn't been so hung up on the age difference –nearly thirty years– she'd never have looked any further for a husband. However he had refused to even consider looking at her like that and she hadn't had a strong enough self-image to pursue him in spite of his misgivings, so she'd wound up with her Asura and Kajin and been perfectly, blissfully happy with both of them. About four years after Luffy made Pirate King however, Marco's instincts finally got the better of him and he'd fallen hard for her, which had tied him up in knots. Mariposa had noticed, at which point she'd brought it to her parents' attention in the way of children everywhere. Marco had panicked but Fox, Zoro and Spadille hadn't let him get away and dragged him off so that the issue could be faced and dealt with properly. The resolving process had involved alcohol, Shanks and a lot of cuddling, but after that Marco had been a regular visitor to the trio's home island. He was the person she was most worried about leaving behind, as after one _particular_ birthday party that had taken place a decade into Luffy's 'rule' Marco had become an on-and-off lover to the whole trio and phoenixes were intensely social birds. Losing the people he was emotionally closest to would mess him up, especially when those people were the only ones he knew who were as untouched by time as he was. She hoped he didn't go _too_ far around the bend before she managed to find a way home.

She'd sent the phoenix to find _this_ Marco because no matter how her little… prank? Possibly, that _was_ how her Kajin saw it… went she wanted him to know this island was here and be able to visit it. He was a phoenix and this island was their haven. It was where they came to meet and breed every year before scattering to the winds again. Phoenixes mated every twenty years, give or take five years, remaining on the island to raise their young for the decade it took the chicks to reach maturity then leaving again to wander. Regardless of whether they were interested in breeding this year however, all the phoenixes in the world came to Phoenix Island every March to catch up, get to know the new adults and hunt for prospective mates. When she'd found this place back on her own world and taken Marco there he'd cried, then spent three weeks wandering around in a daze before going home with a profound peace in his heart.

She hadn't been entirely certain _when_ he'd get to where she was though, so she'd got on with her daily routine as normal. She had managed to organise two weeks away from Dawn Island with a little help from Makino and a lot of help from Matsuri –and Beckman promising her he'd keep an eye on things– so Spadille had helped her pack then left her here a week previously so she could enjoy the peace. Fox needed the quiet and the comfort the phoenixes gave her: with Zoro still missing she was getting worn away little by little and the chances of her accidentally reverting to the underlying, predatorily inhuman mindset that had been trained into her by her shishou and reinforced by the loss of her first nakama grew ever higher. In that state there was no right or wrong, simply instinct and action in the pursuit of an overriding goal. It was a perilous place and one she had no intention to return to, which meant she needed time off from her responsibilities to meditate, rest and recover. She'd spent half of every day here for the latter two weeks of the previous March, but Matsuri being there to watch over the children and the twins being old enough to manage by themselves for a bit meant she could stay here full time this year. It meant a lot to her and she was already feeling much better. She had another week to go before returning home, though.

Her daily routine was to spend the morning dancing and training, then eat lunch, nap, bathe and spend the afternoon relaxing and 'chatting' with the phoenixes. Having spent three months with Marco after her escape from slavery, she had picked up a lot of 'phoenix' due to her hyperfocus on him and decades of association and friendship had made her fluent. She loved the fiery birds and they all adored her back, sensing the inner flame of her Devil Fruit which was like their own intangible plumage. Several younger birds had attempted to court her over the years, both at home and here in this not quite similar world, but she'd made sure not to reciprocate. She found it secretly amusing that her aloofness had increased her popularity with the phoenixes here and for all of the past week she had not spent more than half an hour unaccompanied, trilling, chirping and twittering with her numerous avian attendants. Phoenixes were very intelligent birds and Fox found them charming, for all that a good number of things didn't translate.

Fox had just finished her bath in a hot spring and was rinsing off the soap when the phoenixes around her were 'reached' by a presence Fox recognised as being Marco-like. Not the Marco she remembered from home, unsurprisingly, but definitely the same presence she'd felt when Spadille had delivered his kissogram.

The kissogram had actually been her brainwave: Spadille had been stressing about getting a suitable present for his brother and Fox had absently suggested a kiss. Fox had mentioned it because kisses gave her insight into people's hearts and she wanted to know if _this_ Marco was anything like _her_ Marco, but Spadille had jumped on the idea and run with it to extremes only her Kajin would ever stretch to: getting Iva to turn him into a woman and obtaining that uniform had been all her husband.

Fox had been privately musing on the truly _spectacular_ expressions on the faces of the Whitebeard Pirates when they had recognised her Kajin for who 'she' was when there was a flutter and a startled squawk behind her. She turned around and was quietly amused by the utterly stunned expression on the zoan's features. It was hard to spot on a bird, even one well over two metres long – if a person included the tail– but the wide, glazed eyes were a definite clue. She sat down on the grass at the edge of the pool, the angle giving her audience a very nice view of how the water slid over her skin on its way to the ground. Marco definitely liked it: his crest bounced up, his tail flexed and he spread his wings as he strutted closer in a slight curve, doing the standard phoenix courtship display. Admittedly he was basically saying 'look at me, aren't I fabulous, bare my children!' but he _did_ look utterly magnificent. Magnificent enough, in fact, that she decided to roll with it –it fitted with the idea she'd come up with to help him when he finally noticed he wasn't aging– and cooed, inviting him to take the courtship process to the next level.

The stumble of surprise was funny, but everything was hanging on his responses and she wanted this to work.

* * *

Having got the go-ahead –which led him to suspect that she knew she was more than just a bird– Marco took the plunge and shifted back to his human form. As a human he now towered over the woman who had up until that point been a head taller than him even sitting down, as birds were built on a horizontal body plan rather than a vertical one. She however didn't seem all too impressed, tossing her head, examining her fingernails and only watching him out of the corner over her eye. It wasn't a very human reaction, but he instinctively recognised it and knew what it meant. It was an invitation to show off. Not show off his strength –that would come later– but his body. Well, she _was_ naked, so…

Marco let his jacket slide off his shoulders to fall to the grass behind him, calmly unknotted his sash and let fall as well, his metal belt coming off with it and hitting the ground with a thud. He didn't take his eyes off the fabulous blonde, who had ducked her head and was watching him avidly from under lowered lashes. So she wanted a show, did she? Balancing on one foot he slipped off one sandal, then the other. Then he stalked closer, unbuttoning his trousers and slipping out of them at the same time of his underwear. By them he was close enough to hear her slight intake of breath as he stepped out of the last of his clothes and smirked down at her.

Her chin came up, eyes sweeping up his body to meet his own eyes and Marco's breath caught in his throat at the sight of her pupils fully dilated, drowning her golden irises in hungry black. She rose to her feet then stepped out of the pool, water cascading down her calves. She was only just shorter than he was and Marco found there was a very definite charm to being able to look a hot woman dead in the eye. For one it meant you didn't have to look down very far to see her chest.

He reached out towards her but she sidestepped, a challenge in her eyes as one eyebrow arched haughtily. Marco matched the movement easily, dipped his head and stepped forwards to press his cheek against hers; phoenixes didn't have hands, so he'd have to keep them to himself. Being naked however gave him plenty of other body parts he could press against her skin. Nuzzling first, then he could move on to preening and kissing. Birds didn't kiss, but humans didn't have bills they could touch and rub against each-other so it worked out as equivalent. He was _really_ looking forward to the preening: not using hands meant he'd get to nibble that beautiful body all over. First however he fully intended to make the most of the invitation to rub his face all over that fabulous skin.

Marco crooned as he rubbed his cheek against hers, then nuzzled her neck and moved closer so he could reach the nape of her neck and the backs of her shoulders, which coincidentally meant her breasts were pressed flush against his chest. Feeling her nipples press into his skin made him briefly wish he could use his hands, but he pushed the thought away: most women needed a _lot_ more persuasion before they let your mouth anywhere near their chest. Or anywhere else other than their face, come to that. This was a very nice change.

He was just working his way back up her neck after about twenty minutes devoted to rubbing his face over every inch of her wonderfully pert breasts and enjoying the way her pulse sped up when he breathed on her nipples when she stepped back, ducked down to meet him coming up and kissed him. Marco kissed back, his tongue sliding into her mouth as he made use of his many years of experience to coax breathy whimpers from her throat and set her muscles trembling. Not being able to use his hands was a bit more of a hindrance right now, but if he could get _her_ to grab _him_ then he'd have the perfect excuse to grab back.

He wanted her to scream herself hoarse as he coaxed her to climax with hands, mouth and body over and over again until every muscle in her body was trembling and she couldn't do anything except gasp and shake as he spent himself in her, but before that he wanted something else from her, if she could even do it. He wanted to know if she could fly with him. So rather than lean his body closer into hers so she could feel his erection pressed against her groin he let himself slip into hybrid form and broke the kiss to trill invitingly in her ear.

Her response was everything he'd been hoping for: she burst into white flames with a similar 'feel' to his own blue flames and rose to hover slightly off the ground before grinning at him over one shoulder and shooting higher. Marco crowed in delight and threw himself into the air after her. Flying like this would be tricky but so, so worth it if he could make it work.

* * *

Marco kissed his sleeping lover's lips before leaving the small house in the woods they'd eventually ended up in. He'd had a truly fantastic few days but he had to get back to the Moby Dick and his Pops. He felt a bit uneasy about leaving while she was asleep, but despite spending the past four days with her he'd never actually spoken a word. Neither had she; there'd been lots of whimpers, mewls, moans, screams and breathless gasping though, from both of them. The sex had been _spectacular_. He'd definitely rocked her world and he really hoped he'd get to see her again. Well, maybe next year.

He resumed his phoenix form and took flight, setting out in the direction of the island the Moby Dick had been sailing towards when he'd been distracted. He'd probably catch up with his brothers about mid-afternoon, which would be good time. As the island behind him vanished into the distance Marco had a faint misgiving about leaving the beautiful woman behind, but it wasn't like he'd promised her anything so he ignored the feeling.

* * *

Fox stirred, returning to wakefulness slowly and luxuriating in the bone-deep ache that pervaded her being. Training until her muscles burned was all very well, but there was _nothing_ that could compare to absolutely mind-blowing sex for getting a really _thorough_ workout. She'd slept well, felt completely at peace and thoroughly pampered in Marco's care and still couldn't quite believe he'd chosen to court her properly instead of just settling for sex, which she had made it clear she was willing to give him. For him to pick commitment over pleasure… she hoped he wouldn't be too angry when he found out she was married. Not to mention who she was married to. Spadille had _surprised_ Marco back in October and she wasn't sure the phoenix zoan was mentally flexible enough to deal with how casually outrageous her husband could be just yet.

Phoenixes had two different modes of engaging in relationships, due to their immortality. Couples would get together for the month and bill, coo, preen and engage in sex for bonding, then part ways come April to meet up again the next year and possibly do it again, or possibly do it with someone else instead. Real courtship however involved a courtship flight, which was a demonstration of strength and skill as well as a promise of commitment that held through the female laying her eggs, the chicks hatching and for the further decade it took the chicks to be fully independent. For Marco to promise that… it made her heart sing. Fox knew Spadille wouldn't mind: Marco wasn't Zoro but their affinity was stronger than any other lover could provide. Even just being Marco's lover gave her another strong anchor holding her to sanity, but what he'd given her was so much more than that.

She did wonder how he intended to juggle being First Division Commander with his promise though.

On that note, where was Marco? Fox reached out curiously, stretching her senses across those of the other phoenixes still on the island and then further still when Marco's unique signature did not ping back. Now seriously concerned, Fox tapped into her Devil Fruit and reached for that connection instead.

Her mental wail of anguish had Spadille tumbling out of bed on his ship several days' travel away, grabbing his clothes and spear and flashing to her side in seconds.

* * *

Spadille held Fox in his lap, cuddling her close against his chest and doing his best to project soothing thoughts as all around them dozens of phoenixes snuggled close and preened her hair comfortingly. The flame logia had been doing this for nearly five hours already and Fox had only just stopped screaming in his head, her frightened incomprehension and soul-deep agony at whatever had been done to her making it impossible for Spadille to find out exactly _what_ Marco had done that had reduced her to such a state. Because Marco _had_ done something and the bastard bird had no idea how lucky he was that Zoro was missing or else the swordsman would right now be testing the very limits of the zoan's regeneration ability. Zoro had formidable focus and was completely lethal with Armament Haki; he could slice a logia to bloody ribbons with very little effort and not even Marco's regeneration ability would do him much good if Zoro was angry enough to counter it. Pouring killing intent _and_ haki into his swords –the Kitetsu in particular– made the wounds inflicted very reluctant to heal indeed.

Spadille would have gone to inflict bloody, char-grilled vengeance himself but Fox needed him right now. Her equilibrium was shot, she was sliding into shock despite his and the other phoenixes' best efforts and at this rate he wouldn't be able to take her home in two days as she wouldn't be coherent enough to look after the children. But worst of all was the gaping wound in her fragile self-esteem and the crushing blow to her ability to trust. Fox had trusted Marco and the yellow-crested playboy had taken shameless advantage then broken his word. His precious Kitsune was already fragile and the careless cruelty had utterly smashed her defences and reduced her to the quiet, clingy and submissive killer hanging onto control by her fingernails that the logia had believed he would never have to protect ever again. He hadn't seen her this bad since before she met Zoro and regularly had those screaming nightmares. It terrified him, which made him want to beat Marco into a bloody pulp with the blunt end of his yari. Not kill him –Pops wouldn't like that and dead men couldn't apologise– but that left plenty of room for creativity.

Fox whimpered and Spadille showered kisses down on her face, pouring all his love, acceptance and support into her with unstinting fervour. At least she didn't doubt in the slightest that _he_ loved her. That would have killed him.

"I love you," he whispered hoarsely into her hair, pulling up his knees so his whole body was wrapped around her. "Please, tell me what went wrong so I can fix it."

"M-M-Marco," Fox sobbed raspily, the tears still streaming down her face. Her eyes were just a bit red rather than swollen almost shut –her Devil Fruit at least wasn't being suppressed– but he'd had to pour water down her throat twice in the past hour alone to prevent her from getting dehydrated from all the tears she was crying.

"What did he do to you, Precious?" Spadille asked gently for what felt like the one-thousandth time.

Fox gasped, but no words came out; instead a jumble of mental pictures and memories tumbled into his mind.

Marco inviting her to Fly, initiating serious courtship with the attached implicit promise of commitment.

Her propositioning Marco, offering sex with no strings attached.

Flying with Marco, the intricate airborne dance igniting fire in her veins and joy in her heart as he lead and chased her by turns before finally driving her back to the ground and pouncing on her.

Sex. Lots and lots of sex, a kaleidoscope of fragments from several different days and a blizzard of sensation he remembered very well from the _very_ loud echoes that had resonated down their bond all through the past ninety hours or so. Spadille had spent a _lot_ of that time in his cabin, writhing in sympathetic ecstasy.

Marco gone without even a word of explanation, a blue phoenix soaring over the Grand Line towards a distant but distinctive silhouette of a ship.

Incomprehension. Abandonment. Pain, raw and deep as though run through by a blunt, rusty sword.

Spadille swore as he resurfaced that he was going to make his liar of a brother _pay_ for deceiving his beautiful, generous, fragile wife like that. It wasn't just cruel, it was _wrong_. He picked Fox up bodily and headed for the house. She needed to be dressed for this as there was no way he was going to leave her behind. It seemed that his brothers would be meeting his wife much sooner than he had previously intended.


	10. Impact

**Impact**

Marco arrived back on the Moby Dick in a singularly good mood despite having the faint impression of having forgotten something. Oh well, it would come to him eventually. In the mean time he had to tell his Pops about the island full of phoenixes he'd found in the Calm Belt –though he had not the slightest intention of mentioning the hot blonde– and see if his captain would be willing to let him visit again next year.

As it happened it turned out today was one of Pops' better days, and he was sitting out on deck with the nurses bustling around him and monitoring all the various machines he was hooked up to rather than in his cabin. February had been a bit rough this year and Marco was relieved to see that the Old Man was recovering from the cough he'd caught when half the crew came down with colds and winter fevers and one brother in ten had been bedridden for days at a time.

"Well, my son?" Pops asked as most of the other Division Commanders gravitated to the main deck to listen and the rest of the crew within earshot pretended to get on with their chores.

Marco grinned. "I found a whole island's worth of phoenixes, Pops!" he said brightly, propping his knuckles on his hips. "Turns out my Devil Fruit's not so mythical after all."

"Gurararara!" Whitebeard chuckled. "You seem much better for your little jaunt, Marco. You're always so twitchy in March." He smiled. "Not that most people would notice that."

"Eh," Marco scratched his head sheepishly, "seems that March is the time of year phoenixes congregate. They were starting to leave when I set out back home." The Moby Dick would always be his home, no matter how special that island was. "It's in the Calm Belt though and the cliffs are pretty steep. I don't think anyone could get onto that island unless they could fly or were prepared to scramble up vertical rock surfaces and around overhangs. I mean, the cliffs are higher than the Moby Dick's mainmast!"

Pops snorted. "Not really worth visiting then," he concluded, "except for you of course, my boy. We'll see about passing this way again next year."

Marco beamed. "Thanks Pops!"

The phoenix zoan wandered over to chat with his fellow Division Commanders to catch up with what had happened in his absence and was being ribbed by Vista about his uncharacteristic cheerfulness when his Kenbunshoku Haki screamed a warning. Marco tried to dodge the unexpected attack but it came too quickly: a Seastone pole slammed into his ribcage with a painful crunch of snapping bones and threw him into the wall of the poop at a speed that would have shattered his spine had he not called up Busoshoku Haki and his blue flames; as it was it hurt like the very devil and his head slammed into the boards hard enough to make him see stars.

Marco was blinking the flashing lights away and scrambling to his feet when a wave of Haoshoku Haki crashed down on him, blasting out from whoever had just attacked him and felling his brothers like saplings caught in a tsunami. The overwhelming force wasn't just Will, but filled with black, crushing fury so dense Marco gasped under the weight of it. He'd never felt haki like that directed at him before; he doubted anyone other than Pops and the other Division Commanders were still standing. It did clear his head though and his eyes focused on his attacker.

It was Spadille.

* * *

Thatch felt his blood chill as he perched on the rail he'd retreated to, his twin swords gripped loosely in his hands. Spadille was very obviously right _there_ in the middle of the deck but the ginger couldn't feel anything at all from the man; he might as well have been a ghost for all Thatch could sense him. The part of his brain that processed his Observation Haki was insisting his eight-foot-tall brother wasn't there at all and it was terrifying to realise that it _was_ possible for a person to hide their existence so thoroughly that no amount of haki training would let you hear them. Spadille could have _killed_ Marco rather than just launch him into the side of the poop with a swing of the butt of his spear; one swing of the Seastone blade at the other end of the yari and the First Division Commander's head would have parted company with the rest of his body and no amount of Flames of Regeneration could have fixed _that_.

Spadille looked utterly terrifying and it wasn't just the heavy, treacle-thick Conqueror's Haki radiating from him that was intimidating. The blue-haired man wasn't smiling and the granite stillness of his blank, impassive features was made more unnerving by the inhuman red gleam of his eyes. Whitebeard's son usually had eyes in a rather warm shade of amber but it seemed that homicidal fury changed their colour to the dull crimson of drying blood. The way the ten-foot spear spun idly in Spadille's gloved right hand suggested that the fight had barely started, though why the usually cheerful flirt would suddenly decide to attack Marco of all people was a mystery. What the hell was going on?! There were only twelve people still conscious within sight and Thatch rather doubted anybody belowdecks had been spared. Several of his brothers had already fallen from the rigging to tumble bonelessly across the boards and anyone still aloft was only up there because they'd been lucky enough to get tangled in the rigging rather than dropping like rocks. No-one had fallen into the sea –a small mercy– but that didn't mean no-one would. What the _hell_ was Spadille _doing_?!

Spadille whirled the spear, planted it blade-down in the deck and calmly advanced on Marco, gloved fingers flexing and the frighteningly blank expression still on his face. Thatch had fought people who raged and spat, people who laughed madly and people who were completely focussed on what they were doing but he'd never seen anyone who could shut down their face and body language so thoroughly that it was impossible to read their emotions. If it wasn't for the steady level of killing intent and Conqueror's Haki radiating from the tall man he wouldn't have had a clue what was going on in Spadille's head.

Marco clearly recognised he was under attack, though he didn't seem to have any more idea why than Thatch did.

"Spadille?" the blond zoan said warily, "What-"

Spadille moved in a blur: one minute he was ten feet away from Marco, the next the First Division Commander was screaming as his arms were bent and twisted behind his back in ways arms really weren't supposed to. The crunch and crack of shattered bones echoed across the deck as Spadille leapt out of the Pops' reach, Marco still dangling limply from his hands.

"Put your brother down, son," Whitebeard said firmly, frowning at his blue-haired child.

Spadille's next words sent ice down Thatch's spine:

"Sorry Pops," the tall man said flatly, letting go of one arm to catch Marco's ankle and dislocate a knee with a sharp yank and a pop, "but no can do. Don't worry; I won't kill him;" Spadille went on, the cruel, thin smirk twisting his lips _terrifying_ the Fourth Division Commander beyond reason, "dead men can't apologise, after all."

"Apologise?" Jozu growled. None of the other Division Commanders were attacking, partly because Spadille was still holding Marco –who didn't seem to be able to use his devil fruit at all right now for some reason– and if the larger man's display of strength was anything to go by he could probably twist the zoan's head clean off before they could stop him, but mostly because this really seemed to be personal. The Whitebeard Pirates were all brothers and backed each-other up against enemies, but personal disputes within the crew were resolved strictly between the individuals involved. Otherwise the ship would be torn apart by feuds and bickering and that really wouldn't do.

"Oh, Marco?!" Spadille crooned evilly. "Wakey wakey!" he shook his victim sharply, making the blond gasp in pain before letting him fall to the deck with a thump. Marco activated his blue flames even as he fell but the healing fire did nothing for his dislocated knee; clearly his Ability had a few more limits beyond the ones Marco knew about already.

Marco twisted himself around and glared up at Spadille. "What is your problem, bastard?!" he growled through gritted teeth, face tight with pain.

Spadille folded his arms. "You made my wife cry," he said simply, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Not just cry, either: it took me the better part of five hours to get her to stop screaming in pain and tell me who had hurt her in the first place." He raised an eyebrow. "Care to explain yourself?"

Marco seemed about to hotly refute Spadille's outrageous statement, then his eyes widened and he went a shade paler. Thatch frowned, lowering his swords slightly. Marco was an unrepentant player but he respected women and never hurt them unless they attacked him first. What on earth was going on here that Marco _wasn't_ denying having harmed his brother's wife?

"I swear she was fine when I left her, Spadille, I _swear_!" Marco said urgently, shuffling into a sitting position with his dislocated knee sticking out at an ugly angle.

"Well yes, she probably was," Spadille agreed mildly, tone at odds with the heavy beat of Conqueror's Haki still hammering down around him and making the boards of the deck creak. "But Marco, you _left_. After promising to _stay_. Lying to a lady really isn't done you know, especially when that lady can kill you in over a hundred different ways before ever picking up a weapon. Admittedly she's still too traumatised to contemplate murder right now, but give her time and she'll get there. There may even be enough left for Pops to bury afterwards."

Thatch had the distinct impression that whatever Marco had done with Kitsune, as he believed Spadille's wife to be called, had a lot to do with why Marco had been so very relaxed and cheery when he arrived back on the Moby Dick after his four days away. Which suggested it had involved a _lot_ of sex. Spadille didn't seem bothered by that part though, which gave weight to the blue-haired man's earlier statements that he and his wife had an understanding when it came to taking other lovers. It still made his head ache though. Marriage wasn't supposed to work like that.

"I didn't promise _anything_!" Marco insisted, "Hell, we didn't even _talk_!"

Thatch was _so_ going to tease Marco about that later, if there was a later. He didn't think he'd be the only one to do so either. Vista's moustache was twitching and Curiel had lowered his guns and was smirking outright.

Spadille opened his mouth, paused and closed it again before sighing explosively and rubbing his temples. "Marco, do you know _anything_ about phoenixes?" he asked wearily, "Lifespan, social behaviour, courtship and breeding strategies, preferred habitats, migration patterns, hell, _diet_?"

Ooh, _burn_. The First Division Commander had been looking for information like that for _years_ and he could have just asked Spadille? Talk about unlikely sources of knowledge but it was somehow less surprising than it should be that Spadille knew more about phoenixes than the currently crippled commander did. It might even explain how Spadille managed to consistently find and prod at the chinks in the zoan's mental armour.

Marco flushed scarlet. "I never even _saw_ one until earlier this week," the First Division Commander said shortly. "I didn't realise they actually existed outside of stories."

"Know anything about normal birds?" Spadille inquired tiredly. "Phoenixes look terribly swish but they're still just a fancy type of avian."

"Not that much beyond the obvious and how they fly and navigate," Marco admitted after a short pause, not rising to the obvious bait.

Spadille groaned, dragging his hands down over his face. "Okay, but that doesn't get you out of apologising; ignorance is no excuse and you _really_ hurt her," he said a little bitterly. "I've not seen her fall apart like that since before we married and I never, ever wanted to see it again. She was _better_ , damn it! I can't take her home when she's like this! She can't even look after herself, let alone the kids!" He clenched his fists, sagged then swung himself onto the railing around the top of the poop deck and sat down on it. He didn't let up with the Conqueror's Haki though. Thatch noticed that Marco looked utterly shocked at hearing that he'd reduced a woman to a state in which she couldn't even look after herself. He also looked guilty. Not surprising really, never mind that it was his brother's _wife_ he'd done it to. Thatch was going to get _weeks_ of fun out of this once everything had been resolved to Spadille's satisfaction, which it _would_ be. He refused to contemplate the alternative.

* * *

"So, phoenixes," Spadille said conversationally, as though maintaining the oppressive flood of haki keeping most of the crew unconscious was no great effort. "Generally assumed to be made of fire, but are actually made of life: pure vital energy. They only show their true nature when migrating to or are actually on their home island; the rest of the time they stay camouflaged as normal, similarly sized birds. You only know if you've found a phoenix if you try to kill a random bird for your dinner and it uses flames to heal the hole you shot in it. They're also smart enough to avoid that kind of situation, so you're really, really unlikely to realise you've actually seen one. They're also completely ageless, being made of life itself, though they can be killed if you try hard enough. It's generally inadvisable to try though, as they're a telempathic species so killing one will get every other bird in existence pissed off at you and a whole flock of phoenixes can do a lot of damage. Send you completely around the bend for one; psychic attacks are just _nasty_." The blue-haired man paused, eyes darting around his enthralled audience of the commanders and Pops. "They like forested areas as a rule but you can find them just about anywhere they can catch fish. They like dates too, so if you find a good stand of date trees you can bet there'll be a phoenix in the vicinity."

Blenheim snorted quietly; Thatch's lips twitched. He knew Marco was crazy about dates. Not obviously, but he'd buy them if he could get them and was always reluctant to share.

"They're also highly social birds," Spadille went on, eyes fixed on the middle distance as though quoting something he'd heard from someone else. "Even though you're highly unlikely to find more than a single phoenix on any island or archipelago that phoenix will likely be in the midst of the largest flock of local birds. Find a massive flock of birds and you can bet there'll be a phoenix in there somewhere. They also have the most phenomenal facial recognition skills in the animal kingdom: most animals and birds can recognise distinct individuals within their own species, but phoenixes can pick up on the details and differences between individuals of every single bird species on the planet, a good number of animal species and are pretty hot on human facial recognition. They have an incredible memory for faces too, which is why you don't want to piss them off because they'll remember you and you'll have to be on the lookout for vengeful birds for the rest of your life." Spadille looked down at Marco, "Which you are going to be finding out about if you don't apologise. Phoenixes really like my wife and they _know_ you were the one to hurt her. They also understand the how, which you obviously don't and is probably why they haven't descended en masse yet. Well, other than the distance issue."

Marco looked profoundly disturbed. Thatch didn't like the sound of that either and Pops looked rather concerned as well. Immortal birds capable of psychic attacks were not something Thatch _ever_ wanted to deal with.

"Which gets me onto breeding and courtship," Spadille said with a sigh, "and I can't _believe_ you don't know this stuff. You're a zoan so it should be instinctive. Unless you're suppressing or ignoring your instincts, which is stupid." He shook his head. "Whatever. Okay, breeding behaviour. Phoenixes don't have fixed mating systems: they can be socially monogamous or engage in polygyny, polyandry, promiscuity and any variation thereof depending on the circumstances. Note that social monogamy is not the same as actual monogamy: it just means that the male and female will raise all the chicks hatched between them regardless of actual parentage. No bird species is completely monogamous no matter how much they may appear to be; pair-bonding is all about raising young, not devotion. A pair of phoenixes will generally last a single breeding cycle, from courtship through egg-laying and hatching until the chicks are fully fledged and independent. The adults will then part ways. They might meet up again a few more years down the line, but then they'll go through the whole courtship process again before raising a new brood. Phoenixes don't always raise their chicks in pairs though; trios aren't all that unusual and sometimes a mixed group of four or five will raise their chicks together. It depends on which individuals are interested in breeding in any specific year, the environmental conditions and the gender ratio."

Thatch privately thought that explained a _lot_ about Marco. Yes, he was only really interested in women but he had no problem with sleeping with two or more at a time and had a particular weakness for mermaids, who weren't adverse to threesomes or more if they happened to be interested in human men.

"And finally, courtship," Spadille sighed, giving Marco the evil eye. "Phoenixes have two kinds of courtship, possibly due to being immortal: social courtship and breeding courtship. Social courtship is casual. Male meets female, male shows off, female is impressed, they coo, preen, bill, feed each-other and have a lot of sex then part ways at the end of the month. A few years of social courtship may lead up to proper breeding courtship, but then again it may not." Spadille paused. "Breeding courtship is different. For one, it takes a decade to raise a brood of chicks to maturity so it's a serious commitment even for a bird that doesn't age. So in addition to all the behaviour that goes on in a social courtship there's also a courtship flight to determine strength and fitness and to test devotion."

Thatch noticed that Marco was starting to look rather nervous.

"Initiating a courtship flight indicates devoted intent; the phoenix version of proposing even though the relationship has a relatively limited duration," Spadille went on ruthlessly as Marco shifted uncomfortably, "so the whole point of it is for the phoenix who initiated it to test the resolve of their chosen partner. A successful courtship flight results in a whole lot of sex spread over days and weeks until the female starts to lay, at which point things settle down a bit and the nesting proceeds as for normal birds, though the process of raising the chicks takes considerably longer. The pair however will stay together until the chicks are fully mature and have left the nest." He eyeballed Marco. "Worked it out yet?"

Marco looked extremely uncomfortable and it wasn't just due to his knee; Thatch had never seen the First Division Commander _squirm_ before.

"A phoenix will _never_ leave their chosen partner after going through with a courtship flight," Spadille continued as Marco cringed, "as it goes against their nature. After all, why abandon a committed relationship you deliberately initiated in the first place?"

"Okay, okay! I get it!" Marco blurted out, agitated fingers running through his hair. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm an ignorant idiot and I shouldn't have done it!"

Spadille raised an eyebrow. "What are you apologising to _me_ for? I'm not the one you deceived and left in the lurch. She's behind you, by the way."

Marco froze, eyes wide and panicked. Thatch quickly looked over behind where Marco was sitting, towards the spear planted blade-down in the deck. Nothing. But he still couldn't sense Spadille properly, so that wasn't really much of a guarantee that there _wasn't_ anybody there. She _was_ an assassin, as his brain oh-so-helpfully reminded him. One that was _retired_ despite his brother's claims of his wife being better in combat than he was. Today was the first time Thatch had seen Spadille fight seriously even for an instant and if his wife was significantly more capable then they really were all screwed if she decided to hold a grudge.

Marco turned around, tried to get to his feet and stumbled, gasping in pain as his dislocated knee crumpled. Spadille slid off the poop deck railing to the main deck in time to catch him, then lifted the blond right off his feet and set his knee with a swift yank and a click. Marco hissed, but a flash of blue flame later he was standing as though he hadn't been crippled seconds previously. Spadille stopped projecting Conqueror's Haki and strode past Marco to pull his yari out of the deck.

"Precious, let Marco see you so he can apologise for being an idiot and you can hash out some kind of compromise," the blue-haired man said in a tone of firm command. Thatch blinked and suddenly there was a woman standing between Marco and Spadille. A very attractive woman, Thatch had to admit. Red-rimmed eyes notwithstanding.

There was a flash of azure fire, a subdued cheep and Marco was abruptly replaced by a large, fiery blue bird with an extremely sheepish posture. Thatch saw Vista's jaw drop and Jozu blink; had Marco just lost control of his Ability? The ginger hadn't known embarrassment could make you do that!

* * *

Marco was feeling battered. First Spadille had mangled him physically –what kind of person wore gloves with Seastone studs on the palms?! That was just wrong! – and chewed him out while lecturing him about phoenixes as if knowledge about them was common or obvious, then he found himself facing the woman he'd accidentally mislead who turned out to be his brother's wife. On seeing her, his phoenix instincts and human mind had gone in two different directions resulting in him involuntarily shifting into his zoan form. He didn't have a clue what to say, what to do or how she was going to react –that she was an _assassin_ and all _that_ entailed weighed rather heavily on his mind– and that she honestly had reason to do him in. If she _did_ decide to kill him there probably wasn't anything his brothers or Pops could do about it even if Spadille even let them get close enough to try. Spadille's assault today proved rather conclusively that, if he ever had to choose between his wife and Pops, he'd back his wife every time. A wife that Marco's ignorance had hurt severely.

So Marco stayed phoenix-shaped, kept his eyes on the woman he'd spent over half the past week having sex with and waited for the axe to fall.

She was no less lovely than she had been in the morning when he had left, but it was a completely different beauty. That morning she'd been stark naked, her skin adorned with the marks of passion and her face soft and relaxed in sleep. She'd looked sweet, sensual and enticing. Now her eyes were red-rimmed and her cheeks tear-streaked, but she stood ramrod straight and otherwise composed, her expression calm and neutral and her impossibly long hair pulled back and styled in a large knot with numerous thin braided loops hanging down on either side of her head. Her clothing added to the impression of quiet composure: she was wearing as many layers of kimono as a Wano court-lady, all in shades of green, pink and gold, a large furled fan grasped in the barely-visible fingers of one hand. All in all she looked magnificent, dignified and graceful for all her sorrow. It hurt. Marco recognised defences when he saw them and the elaborate layered clothing and fiddly hairstyle were all barriers erected against the world and her pale skin even lacked the inner fire it had held when he first encountered her. To have her go from uninhibited nudity to this… he'd fucked up big-time.

Phoenixes didn't have a world for 'sorry'; they didn't need one. But there was no way he was going to turn himself human again and have this conversation in front of his brothers: she deserved better than that. So he tried to find a way to express himself with the vocabulary at his disposal. He warbled softly, projecting concern and sorrow.

 _You hurt._ Acknowledgement was about all he could articulate. _Can I do anything?_

Golden eyes stopped staring into the middle distance and focused on him as another tear trickled down her face. There was a moment of silence then Marco was _blasted_ by a wave of _pain/incomprehension_ as she threw her head back and keened, the meaning making Marco feeling even lower than scum:

 _Abandoned!_

Spadille had said that phoenixes were social birds and Marco knew he didn't like being stuck by himself at _all_ , but the vocalisation for the concept of being alone carried heavy connotations of isolation and death. He abruptly realised that to a phoenix being alone was a kind of death and leaving someone by themselves –for whatever reason– was completely alien. His brother's wife was apparently sufficiently phoenix-like to subscribe to that mindset, which was pretty strange for an assassin. Or possibly not, all things considered: she was supposedly a _retired_ assassin, which suggested whoever she had worked for was no longer around. Maybe they'd tried to take out her support structure and she'd gone rogue.

He cautiously stepped closer on clawed feet, nudged the fingers of her free hand with his beak and crooned.

 _Not alone. I'm here._ The next concept he intended to express was a tricky one that didn't quite translate to human properly, but it covered the kind of impulsive behaviour that prompted fuzzy chicks to climb out of nests and fledglings to attempt difficult stunts before their wings were fully developed and seemed pretty apt for his recent screw-up.

 _I have feathers for brains._

She hiccupped at him, eyes wide. Marco crouched slightly, projecting embarrassed recognition and a plea for patience as he glanced up at her face sideways and cheeped his confession again. When it came to apologising to women it was always best to grovel abjectly.

 _Featherbrain_ , she agreed, her lips twitching. Marco peeped a subdued acknowledgement and daringly nibbled her fingers again.

The beautiful woman he'd wronged so carelessly closed her eyes, huffed then abruptly stooped and picked him up in her arms. Marco's wings flared at the unexpected move, balancing him as she wrapped an arm under the backs of his legs and hefted him up so their shoulders were on about the same level. Of course being phoenix-shaped meant his head was slightly higher than hers, so he had to bend his neck a bit to meet her eyes properly. He chirped an inquiry, not entirely sure _why_ she was doing this.

 _My featherbrain_ , she scolded him firmly, looking him in the eye as her tears finally stopped falling.

Marco melted in relief; she wasn't going to kill him. She'd even forgiven him! He half-mantled his wings to rest against her shoulders and started preening her hair, trilling softly. He knew his brothers were going to tease him mercilessly about this later but right now he didn't care. He'd been stupidly thoughtless and created a major misunderstanding that he still needed to clear up properly, but at least she wasn't upset with him anymore. She still hurt, he could tell, but he'd apologised and she'd accepted it. Well, sort-of apologised. He fully intended to do it again properly as soon as they had a bit of privacy.

* * *

"Does this mean I have to stop thinking of ways to hide the body?" Spadille asked lightly from far too close. Marco twitched; he really did not like the way his blue-haired brother could conceal himself from Observation Haki. Spadille was bad enough even without the element of surprise on his side. The blonde woman raised an eyebrow at her husband.

"Fine, fine," Spadille said with a whisper of a smile, raising his hands in surrender. "Are you taking him home with you or do you need some privacy so you can negotiate terms?"

Taking him home with her? While part of Marco rather liked the idea of that, the rest of him couldn't bear to leave the Moby Dick and his brothers. Never mind his responsibilities as First Division Commander and that the bounty on his head would likely bring the Marines down on Spadille's children like a ton of bricks if he was spotted in their vicinity.

"Privacy; right," Spadille nodded, making Marco wonder with a chill if he could read minds. "Go take over the poop deck, Precious." He stooped to kiss the blonde woman on the cheek. "I should probably go make nice with Pops and apologise for knocking everybody senseless." The tall, broad-shouldered man ambled off, his yari slung over his shoulder once more. Spadille's wife placed her free hand in the middle of Marco's back between his wings and walked slowly towards the steps leading to the poop deck, the layered kimonos barely rustling as they swept the boards around her. Marco shifted his weight to lean more heavily against her chest and enjoyed the ride, wrapping his neck around hers and rubbing his forehead and beak against the nape of her neck. While the layered kimonos made her bust practically invisible to the eye, he could feel her breasts pressing against his own chest in spite of the thick silk and it was a very nice sensation.

He cracked opened one eye as she started up the stairs and noticed his fellow Division Commanders and several dozen of his other brothers who had woken up first all staring at him and whispering amongst themselves. Marco closed his eye again; he was going to hear for _months_ about how he'd seduced Spadille's wife and there'd be jokes about threesomes with a female Spadille, speculation about whether he'd sexed the blonde mystery up while in hybrid form and whatever else his siblings' dirty minds could come up with. Thatch for one had _definitely_ picked up on the fact that he'd pretty much confessed to having accidentally proposed to his brother's wife and that she'd _accepted_ , which might get acutely embarrassing for him. Getting married by accident had happened to quite a few of the Whitebeard Pirates over the years, what with the occasionally confusing local customs of some of the Grand Line's more isolated tribes, but Spadille had long since admitted to having both a wife and a husband and Marco wasn't really interested in a foursome with just one woman in it. Spadille did _not_ count as a woman no matter _what_ he had looked like after Ivankov's 'makeover'.

Which reminded him, he really needed to ask the gorgeous blonde her name. It was rather embarrassing that he'd spent the better part of four days having truly fantastic sex with her and didn't even know what she was called. Spadille had never actually mentioned a name, interestingly, though he'd shared that his husband was called Zoro. Had that silence where his wife was concerned been by accident or design?

* * *

Spadille relaxed as the terrible pain in Fox's mind and heart eased and she bent down to pick up the idiot blue bird whose apology had apparently been sufficiently abject for her to forgive him. Fox was a terrible softie when it came to her loved ones; Marco had no idea how fortunate he was that Spadille's delightful assassin of a wife loved the phoenix zoan to distraction. It didn't even matter to her that _this_ Marco wasn't _her_ Marco: he was Marco, he felt right and that was it. It was the same with Shanks and Beckman, though the latter relationship had definitely changed in a number of interesting ways, the most obvious of which was from mentor to friends with benefits. Which reminded him, he needed to take a trip back to the shitty old man on Mecha and see how the rifle he'd commissioned was coming on. Fox took a lot of looking after so it was only appropriate that Spadille express his thanks to the people who helped him out. The rifle was going to be one-of-a-kind and probably become an heirloom that would withstand centuries of use and abuse.

While he was there he could see how Kid was doing and maybe hunt down Killer, or whatever his name really was. Spadille rather doubted the blond's mother had named him that, but he could be wrong. He had met, fought and had people on his crew who had some truly terrible or just plain crazy names. Hell, the name he'd been going by ever since his 'death' at Marineford was unusual.

Actually, he couldn't blame Fox's abrupt manner of attaching herself to people on just the alternate world problem: she'd initially attached herself to him with similarly startling abruptness as he had one day woken up with her in his bed despite him having tried to kill her half a year previously and having been mugged by her rather more recently than that. She had apparently been almost as bad with Marco and seeing Zoro's memories of their first meeting had been a hoot. She'd literally fallen asleep on him within three minutes of introducing herself!

As Marco settled into Fox's arms, rested his wings against her shoulders and started preening her hair Spadille wandered over to get a verbal check on his wife's wellbeing. He didn't need to really, but it was more for his Pops' and brothers' benefit. Now he wasn't hammering the Moby Dick a few inches lower in the water with his Conqueror's Haki his less powerful brothers were starting to wake up and people were starting to stream up from belowdecks to find out what was going on.

"Does this mean I have to stop thinking of ways to hide the body?" he joked, which got him a raised eyebrow and a teasing mental reminder that even if she _had_ decided to kill Marco, she had _far_ more experience hiding bodies than he did and so wouldn't need his assistance in that particular area.

"Fine, fine," the Flame logia said with a smile, raising his hands in mock-surrender, "are you taking him home with you or do you need some privacy so you can negotiate terms?"

 _Privacy please, Kajin_ , Fox immediately whispered in his mind. Her wistful longing at the idea of Marco on Dawn Island was ruthlessly crushed by cool practicality and unflinching acceptance of the phoenix' strong attachment to his family. Marco was a wanted pirate, one of Whitebeard's sons and a phoenix; he would never be happy stuck on a small, sparsely populated and peaceful island in East Blue for more than a few weeks at the very most.

"Privacy; right," Spadille confirmed with a nod, thinking quickly where the best place for her and Marco to go that she could easily cover with her Concealment Haki. "Go take over the poop deck, Precious," he kissed her on the cheek, sending his reassurance and encouragement down the bond. "I should probably go make nice with Pops and apologise for knocking everybody senseless." Fox' amusement at the irreverent understatement in his words cheered him greatly, reassuring him that she was recovering properly. He sent her a half-serious request not to do anything he wouldn't do, which elicited a mental giggle as that didn't leave much out, then turned around and ambled over towards his Pops and the rest of the Division Commanders.

It was still weird there being only eleven Division Commanders, though he would only be dealing with ten since Marco was still completely absorbed in untangling the mess he'd got into with Fox and seeing 'Dancer' Zymon never stopped being unsettling. Seeing Alvel had been worse, as he had _known_ the man was going to die relatively soon and finding out it had just happened when he visited in February had been both painful and something of a relief. He'd liked the former Fourth Division Commander and enjoyed getting to know him in what little time they'd spent together but it had been odd to have Alvel as the commander when in his mind he'd always associated 'Fourth Division Commander' with Thatch.

Spadille really didn't like Zymon though. The man was a misogynistic idiot, though he at least had the good sense not to air his opinions in public. Fox had never liked him and had once admitted that she might have found a way of quietly bumping him off if he hadn't gotten himself killed underestimating a woman nearly two years before Spadille had even become a pirate in the first place, back when he had still been Portgas D. Ace, son of the late Pirate King with a massive chip on his shoulder. Considering that she'd been just seventeen at that point and barely assertive enough to defy an authority figure for anything less than a serious threat to her own life and mental health, that said a _lot_ about how the current Second Division Commander was and none of it good. Worse yet was that his brothers back home had at the time set up a betting pool on how this commander would eventually die; that Izo had won it about eighteen months before Ace came on board was irrelevant.

"So," Spadille said nonchalantly as he wandered into earshot of his Pops and the several dozen pirates now clustered around the Division Commanders who were trying to find out what had happened. "Sorry about the mess Pops, but it was kinda urgent. I'd promise not to do it again, but well," he shrugged, "my wife comes first. Always."

Whitebeard pierced him with a keen look. "You aren't sorry at all, are you brat?" he asked calmly.

"Not in the slightest," Spadille admitted promptly. "Well, I'm sorry for not asking you before laying into Marco, since this is your ship and all, and I'm sorry if anyone else got hurt while I was throwing haki around, but not for anything else."

His old man nodded. "Which is as it should be, my son. Very well, you apology is accepted," he frowned slightly but Spadille could see the ruefully amused glint in the older pirate's eyes, "but next time remember your manners."

"Yes Pops," Spadille said meekly, noting absently that Fox was now only detectable through their bond rather than through haki.

"Pops! Marco and the lady just vanished!" a slightly panicked voice called down from the rigging. Everybody tensed.

"There's this thing called privacy," Spadille said carryingly, examining his fingernails studiously, "that women seem to think is important when discussing things they'd rather not make public. You could look into it."

His Pops chuckled and sat down in his seat on the deck as everybody else relaxed visibly. "Well my son, perhaps you could answer a few questions while your wife is busy, hm?" it wasn't a request but Spadille didn't mind, so he sat himself on the boards opposite the old man, swinging his yari around to rest across his lap.

"Sure thing, Pops," he drawled as the remaining Division Commanders and no few of the other pirates settled within earshot. Thankfully Blackbeard wasn't around today; he'd still have done what he did even if the traitor had been here but he certainly wouldn't have lingered afterwards. Small mercies. "So, questions?"

"Where did you learn to use haki like that, my son?" Whitebeard asked.

Spadille scratched his head. "You don't start with the easy questions, do y-" he stilled. What on _earth_ was Fox doi- oh. He groaned and slapped a hand over his face as he tried to erect more of a wall between himself and Fox. Proximity made this kind of thing worse and he couldn't lock her out properly with her still so fragile. He breathed deeply, resettled himself and ignored his brothers' curious glances. "So, haki. I learnt Kenbunshoku and Busoshoku from my wife, who is better than anyone has any right to be, but I learnt Haoshoku from my sister as it was the first one I accessed." Which was true as far as it went, but not entirely accurate as far as the order of events were concerned. "Tempest was badass with Conqueror's haki, mostly 'cause her best friend was determined to domesticate Sea Kings and Temp used to help out. So I got good real quick and picked up all kinds of tricks." He'd actually learnt a lot from Falco which was kinda backwards but hey, all of their kids were brilliant.

His brothers were apparently somewhat sceptical of his claims however. "Domesticate Sea Kings?" Jozu repeated gruffly.

"Was she insane?" Vista asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, she _was_ a D," Spadille conceded, "my sister's friend not my sister, that is. Temp was just loyal and determined not to let her best friend get into anything she couldn't get out of again. I'm not sure any D can ever be a poster child for sanity and I'm including myself in that, just so you know." He smirked, twitching slightly as Fox's emotions hammered his defences. "Edward _D_. Spadille, remember?"

Pops chuckled and nodded.

"It wasn't like they were _small_ Sea Kings either," Spadille reminisced fondly. "Trudi was smallish, but she coulda sunk the Moby Dick if she ever tried climbing on board and Runt was just _massive_. As in, 'what do you mean that isn't an island?' massive. He was the biggest, but a few of the others approached his weight-class." He sighed. "I don't think she's around anymore though. I certainly haven't been able to find her and Spitfire was never exactly subtle." He grinned. "When you gotta get good enough with Haoshoku to knock out Sea Kings or else get munched, everything else seems easy afterwards."

"How long have you known about phoenixes?" Vista asked.

Spadille scratched his head. "Since, well, since I first met my wife," he admitted candidly. He had known about Marco for that long after all. "She had a phoenix hanging around her a lot of the time, acting like she was his chick. It was kinda funny really, or at least it was until someone upset her and the damn bird went on the warpath. Lots of screaming and liberal lashings of blood then." He paused. Good times. The number of headaches they'd given Marco in those years had been rather high and he'd had a lot of teasing sent his way too. Not that he'd gotten particularly intimate with her: Fox's father was the overprotective sort in spite of his standoffishness and had at that time been the world's strongest swordsman, so those he wanted dead got there quickly and stayed dead. "Precious adores phoenixes; she found that island about seven years back" –this time around– "and she's visited every spring ever since. She can speak phoenix too, which is how she knows so much about them. I just know what I do from listening to her." His fingers dropped to brush the shaft of his spear. "I thought Marco knew about them too or else I'd have said something."

"What's her name?" Curiel asked abruptly.

The Flame logia blinked. "I haven't told you?" He was sure… no, he hadn't. He'd got out of the habit of referring to her by name decades ago because _everybody_ knew who he was married to. "Her name's Fox."

"Not Kitsune?" Thatch asked.

Spadille grinned. "She's _my_ kitsune," he purred, "my sexy little mistress of disguise with enough power to remake the world in her image and utterly lacking the inclination to do so. She's got a killer sense of humour too. Not to everyone's tastes, but hell is it fabulous to watch in action." He grinned wider, showing teeth. "She showed me how much fun it is to be whimsical and I've never looked back."

There was a definite sense that his brothers would have been happier not knowing that, but it dispelled the brewing tension nicely. Now if only Fox could stop being quite so _distracting_ this would be easier. He could ask her to stop… no. She was enjoying herself and her emotional wounds were less raw now. If this kept up she'd be well enough to take home in two days after all.

"You don't seem bothered that your wife had sex with Marco," Zymon commented dryly. Spadille bristled.

"I don't see that how I run my marriage is your business," he said coolly, fingering the spear in his lap. "Fox is a professional killer and was long before I ever knew her. She's killed more people than I have, is better with haki than I am, can outfight me even when seven months pregnant and is capable of being more ruthless than I can stomach. She's also the gentlest, kindest, most loving and most accepting woman I've ever met. I don't care what you think of her but don't you _dare_ voice that opinion anywhere she might hear you because I won't be held responsible for the consequences." Spadille bared his teeth in a grin that was more of a snarl than anything else. "Consider yourself warned; I really _don't_ like people who upset my wife."

"Marco upset your wife," Vista pointed out.

"Killing him would have upset her more," Spadille said simply, even though that didn't explain why. "I woulda done it if she'd asked me to," it would have hurt to make an enemy of his Pops and brothers but Fox was _everything_ and her wellbeing came first, "but she didn't. In fact, she asked me not to hit him too hard 'cause he was still my brother and family's important." He sighed. "Marco's lucky Zoro's still missing: he would have _minced_ Marco for upsetting her and not bothered to listen to Fox's opinion on the matter because to his eyes Marco would deserve it. Besides, it isn't like he wouldn't have healed. Eventually." Spadille tried not to think about all the blood that would be spilled or how strongly Zoro would have to be willing to channel haki and killing intent into his cursed sword in order to slow Marco's regeneration down. Their Asura was regarded as a demon for a reason.

The logia got to his feet and stretched. He needed to be out of the way of all these observant veteran pirates before they realised _why_ he was twitchy and drew the wrong conclusions. "If that's everything, I'll go wait someplace out-of-the-way for Fox to decide she's done here. It might take a while." He strode off, heading for the figurehead.

* * *

Once they were up on the poop deck the blonde wandered over to the rail over the stern and leant one hand on the worn wood. Taking this as his cue Marco changed back, his legs just fitting into the space between her skirts and the rail. His abrupt change in mass and shape meant he was now pressed flush against her front and eye to eye with her.

"So I realise I probably should have asked this first," Marco said, leaning back against the railing as much as he could, "but I don't know your name."

The blonde smiled. "I'm Fox," she told him.

Fox. Not anything he'd expect a lovely lady to be called, but it _did_ sound like something a man would call a child he was training as an assassin.

"I'm sorry, Fox," Marco said next, dropping his eyes to stare at his hands. "I didn't realise what I was offering and I hurt you. I swear I never meant to do that and I certainly didn't mean to mislead you."

Fox nodded and around them the air went strangely still, the sounds coming from on deck as the rest of his brothers woke and dashed up to see what had happened muting slightly. "Privacy," she explained simply; "so that no-one else can hear what we decide or see what we're doing and try to guess."

Privacy; such a simple word but such a rare commodity on board a ship, even one as large as the Moby Dick. Marco guessed they were invisible as Fox had been before Spadille drew their attention to her.

"I'm sorry for offering something I never intended to follow through on," Marco said quietly. "I'm honestly not interested in settling down and having kids; Pops and my brothers are all the family I need."

Fox stilled, then tilted her head on one side and warbled a short descent. The sound hit Marco like a quart of straight absinthe and reality was sucked under by heat, want and primal instinct.

He came back to himself an indeterminate amount of time later to find Fox clutching at his shoulders, stripped to her scarlet kosode and gasping his name. Marco then realised his jacket, sash and belt were strewn across the deck with Fox's kimonos and underwear, his trousers were undone, one of his hands was braced against the small of her back and the fingers of his other hand were buried in the hot, tight wetness between her thighs and pressing against that hard-to-find internal nerve cluster, prolonging her orgasm.

"What. Was. That?!" Marco demanded shakily, reclaiming his hands and trying to think past the pounding of his blood and the almost overwhelming urge to drive his straining erection into her quivering inner passage and fuck her until she _screamed_. "What. Did. You. _Do_?!"

Fox collapsed into him, breathing hoarsely. Marco resisted the panic-borne urge to push her away as memories of the past five minutes or so hit him in pieces, making him pant and groan at the sheer intensity of them.

"Didn't _do_ anything," Fox rasped, still shuddering and hanging onto Marco's shoulders like her grip was the only thing keeping her upright, which was probably accurate. It was incredibly difficult to keep his head when he could _feel_ her heart pounding, her nipples pressing through the silk of her kosode and the dampness seeping from between her thighs. "You're such a liar, Marco."

Marco stiffened. "I don't lie!"

Fox snorted. "If you weren't interested in having kids you wouldn't have jumped me when I made you that offer," she said dryly, meeting his eyes squarely.

Marco flushed scarlet. _Now_ his brain translated the warble that had set him off. Oh, how _humiliating_. "H-how did you know how to say _that_?" he mumbled abashedly, still shaken by his incredibly strong reaction to the untranslatable sound that indicated a willingness to bare his children _right now_. He still wanted to take her up on it, was _aching_ to do it and shamefully keen to see her belly swollen with his child. _Why_ did his brother's wife have to affect him like _this_? It was _wrong_!

Fox chuckled. "I was partly raised by a phoenix," she muttered, "so I'm pretty fluent. Now tell me the truth, Marco."

Marco filed that fact away for later and tried to think past his raging lust and rampant fantasising. The truth…

"I want you," he said bluntly, meeting her eyes and wrapping the fingers of his clean hand around the nape of her neck. "I want you screaming my name as I fill you with my seed, want you in my bed every night to keep me warm and want you pregnant with my child. But I can't have that. You're married to my brother and have other children you need to raise. So no matter how much _I_ want you, you _are_ going to go home to your kids and I probably won't see you ever again." It _hurt_ to say it but it was the truth and he'd never felt as naked as he did now. He was such an _idiot_ , giving his heart away for a song.

"What about your promise?" Her golden eyes were wide and reproachful.

Marco wanted to scream. "How am I supposed to keep it?!" he snapped. "Pops needs me! If the Marines spot me within ten miles of you and your kids they'll tear up the countryside looking for me and cause all kinds of chaos! I didn't even _know_ what I was promising!"

Fox snorted. "You knew. Here," she tapped Marco's chest over his heart, "if not here," she tapped his head. "But I recognise the problems that do exist and I too have outstanding obligations." She sighed, sagging slightly. "So, a compromise?"

"What kind of compromise?" Marco asked suspiciously. It had better not involve Spadille… especially not a female Spadille!

Fox bit her lip. "We defer the decision. You promised me commitment through the time it would take us to raise a child, but that doesn't have to be _now_. I have to stay where I am for a further eleven years but after that I can come to the New World and we can decide what to do next."

"Eleven years?" That was both a long time and not all that long, really. Then the rest of her words caught up with him. "You, you want a child? With _me_?" No wonder she was married to Spadille: she was as crazy as he was! Crazier, even! Open relationship or not, it was human nature to want fidelity in any long-term partner to ensure that the kids you were raising and investing in carried on your family line.

Fox giggled. "If I didn't want one I wouldn't have said what I did just now; you can't lie in phoenix. I can wait though; you aren't going anywhere, are you?"

"No," Marco agreed. He wasn't and he wouldn't. "Are you sure your husband won't mind?" He couldn't _believe_ he was having this conversation.

Fox' eyes twinkled. "My husbands won't object so long as you do your share of the parenting when the time comes. Now," her pupils dilated, "if this is a goodbye I want it to be memorable. So _please_ take me up on my earlier offer."

Marco stopped fighting himself and in seconds Fox was laid out flat on her back on the deck and screaming his name as he drove himself into her again and again. If this was the last time he was going to see –and touch– this beautiful, sensual, loving woman he wanted it to be memorable for the both of them. Besides, there was a certain wicked thrill to having sex on deck in full sight of everyone, only hidden behind a thin veil of haki which was entirely dependent on his lover's self-control and that thankfully extended far and widely enough to hide their shed clothing. His brothers would certainly react to _that_. Part of him wanted to find out if he could shake that control but the rest of him recognised it was better not to go there. This was private and would remain private for at least a further decade until they met again and decided what to do next.

* * *

After they'd finished having sex Marco gathered up the discarded clothing and helped Fox carry it all down belowdecks to the baths belonging to the Division Commanders, where he also helped her get clean and dressed again. Then they slipped back up to the poop deck, Fox took down the veil of Concealment Haki, hugged Marco and let Spadille pick her up and wrap them both in his own Concealment Haki before she flashed them back to Phoenix Island so she could change and pack up her things in readiness for returning home. The misunderstanding with Marco still hurt, but it was healing now and she knew where she stood with him thanks to the empathetic abilities granted by her Devil Fruit. It was enough.

"Precious?" her husband asked.

"Yes, Kajin?" Fox responded as she packed away the kimonos he'd dressed her in while she was unresponsive. Her Kajin had always been startlingly perceptive regarding the intricacies of her clothing preferences.

"Why didn't you tell Marco he'd already got you pregnant?"

Fox turned. "Because he would have felt obliged to leave with me and it would have made him miserable." It wasn't all of the truth, but her husband could easily pull the rest from her mind.

Spadille shook his head. "You're too loving for your own good, you know that Kitsune? We really don't deserve you."

Fox smiled. "But you have me nonetheless," she said lightly. "Though I warn you, this is definitely a multiple pregnancy. I'm not entirely sure how multiple yet, but give me a week."

Her husband groaned. "You _finally_ end up having twins and they aren't even mine," he complained. The Marco she had grown up around back in their home world had been unknowingly used as a stud over a good many years by a large number of mermaids and so his tendency to sire twins was readily apparent. Her Kajin's plaintive complaint in her mind that, considering he had a bit of mermaid in him and she had rather more, a person would think they'd have had at least one set of twins or triplets by now, made her smile. Mermaids often had multiple children at a time and with how mer-genetics worked, those children could look vastly different or even be startlingly similar.

Fox reached over and flicked his nose. "You'll get your turn. As I told Marco, we have time." She loved having children around and with Zoro not here to bring her strays he'd picked up for her to raise, she felt she had plenty of room for more of them in her life.


	11. Dawn

**Dawn**

Thatch perched on the railing, his eyes idly following the nurses as they bustled around Pops and monitored the machines he was hooked up to. Last autumn, about a month before Marco's truly _unforgettable_ birthday, Pops had finally agreed to see a specialist on one of the more advanced islands in his territory and the diagnosis had been startlingly poor: the old man was dying, mostly from the after-effects of decades of drinking alcohol like water. His liver might be large but it wasn't like Shanks' liver that could process a bar's entire stock and not falter. Pops had immediately agreed to the program the doctor had recommended to prolong his life, had allowed the shipwrights to refit his cabin to the man's specifications and managed to purchase quite a lot of expensive medical machinery. He had also brought the nurses on board: several dozen beautiful young women all wearing pink mini-dresses and high-heeled leopard-print boots that showcased their bodies to perfection.

Thatch was a man who liked his women curvy and had to admire his Pops' taste: the nurses ranged from attractively rounded to truly, spectacularly voluptuous. The blonde currently monitoring one of the many machines was one of the latter and the ginger-haired Division Commander was nursing a crush. He hadn't voiced it yet though: the women were all resolutely professional, kept mostly to their quarters when not lavishing their attention on Whitebeard and had thus far made it quite obvious they were not in the slightest bit interested in getting involved with the rest of the crew. Pops had made it very clear when he brought the women on board that they were as much his daughters as the pirates were his sons, so nobody dared push the matter after getting turned down.

Besides, as Zymon had found out, having a three-inch heel driven into your foot _hurt_ and none of the medical staff would give you so much as an icepack afterwards. The ship's doctors had immediately befriended the nurses and the pretty, curvy women could frequently be found in the ship's infirmary, especially after fights. All of his brothers had become much better patients since Pops brought the nurses on board and were much more inclined to allow their injuries to be treated.

Thatch sighed as the object of his affections walked around behind Pops, her hips swinging and chest bouncing gently as she moved from one display to another. Life was so unfair.

"Mooning over that nurse again?" Thatch did not look up as Marco leant against the railing beside him.

"At least the object of _my_ affections isn't married, and to Spadille of all people," he retorted without much heat. The First Division Commander had been ribbed mercilessly for all of the past week about his fling with Fox and Thatch sincerely doubted teasing their usually responsible sibling was going to get old for at least several weeks more. Most of the crew was now aware that it was in fact possible to get a zoan to shift involuntarily if they were sufficiently embarrassed and were trying to make it happen again. Marco was not the only person being targeted for that though; their more pragmatic brothers were starting small and working their way up the ranks with that particular ambition.

"I really do not understand why everyone thinks what I had with Fox involved grand drama or deathless romance," Marco grumbled. "There was a misunderstanding! That was it! I am _not_ pining for her and the very idea of that is ridiculous."

Thatch's lips twitched. "No, but you _are_ cranky about missing out on all the great sex our blue-haired lunatic of a sibling is doubtless getting from her," he teased. "You were _very_ mellow when you showed up and I saw how you looked at her when she left." It hadn't quite been a pout but there had been definite reluctance.

Marco sighed, but did not deny it.

"That good, hm?" Thatch leered cheerfully. "She was looking much perkier after you finished your 'chat', you know. She was even glowing. Were you having a quickie while her husband's back was turned?" Though with all the layers she'd been wearing that would have been pretty difficult to pull off.

"Fox is naturally glowy," Marco retorted calmly. "I think it's to do with her Devil Fruit; her _not_ glowing is more unusual." He ignored the ginger's question entirely, which left Thatch to wonder whether the First Division Commander just didn't think the query was worth answering or if he really _had_ been sexing up Spadille's wife while the man himself was talking to Pops.

"Devil Fruit?" Thatch asked instead. Marco was a total playboy –especially when mermaids were involved– but he rarely divulged anything about his various conquests. The ginger suspected it was a combination of respecting the wishes of the women he had flings with and enlightened self-interest.

Marco briefly let his flames of Regeneration dance over his fingers. "She has flames like this too, but white," he said quietly, "though she stays human-shaped. I think she's some kind of Paramecia with regeneration ability or possibly a logia, though I certainly didn't see any definite evidence for it."

"You did mention there wasn't much conversation going on," Thatch noted drolly, his eyes still on the sexy, sexy nurse who was now bending over a table next to one of her fellows and giving him a good view of her curvaceous behind as the skirt of the mini-dress slid up almost high enough to reveal her panties. He hummed appreciatively.

"Do you even know that one's name?" Marco asked, raising an eyebrow.

Thatch pouted. "They aren't exactly forthcoming with their names, you know," he complained, "and our brothers haven't made it easy to be taken seriously by them, what with all those dumb jokes and 'hello, nurse!' catcalls when they first came on board."

Spadille's little birthday present for Marco a few weeks after the nurses' arrival had stopped all those cold: a good number of people suspected the nurses had been in on the plot as payback for the mild harassment they'd been subject to in the previous month. They had certainly supplied the uniform their brother had worn and had been suspiciously smug afterwards despite their own hangovers. Thatch had actually heard one of them say that if their workload got any heavier due to their brothers' idiocy they'd consider taking Spadille up on his offer to help out. Suffice it to say that things settled down very quickly after that; _nobody_ wanted their sanity threatened by their mostly absent sibling's sense of humour.

"My heart bleeds," Marco said dryly. There was a long but not uncomfortable pause.

"Why didn't you fight back after Spadille grabbed you?" Thatch asked abruptly, remembering what had been bothering him on and off ever since he'd seen the First Division Commander limp and helpless in Spadille's hands.

Marco shifted. "His gloves had Seastone studs sewn into the palms," the blond muttered. "There wasn't much I could do after he grabbed me and he mangled my arms right off the bat. Bastard's nearly as strong as Pops and vicious with it; if I wasn't able to regenerate I'd have been out for weeks and possibly crippled for life."

Oh, ouch. But seriously, Seastone studs sewn into gloves? Who had ideas like that? And what kind of person not only thought it up but actually _did_ it?! Thatch said as much and was startled by Marco's wry snort.

"I think he picked it up from Fox, since she's the assassin," the First Division Commander said with a touch of resignation in his voice, "and you have to admit that a pair of gloves like _that_ would take any Fruit User by surprise."

Unspoken was the obvious conclusion: that getting surprised by an assassin would probably be fatal.

"She doesn't look like an assassin, does she?" Thatch said, deciding it was a good idea to lead the conversation into less serious matters, "All that hair, the glowy skin, showing her emotions openly… not to mention that outfit." The ginger had seen princesses less elaborately and restrictively dressed.

Marco snorted. "The hiding in plain sight –even from Pops– the ability to move silently and easily while wearing eight layers of silk kimono and geta; the sharpened hairpins and steel fan; being able to lift me up with one arm –though I am noticeably lighter when I'm in zoan form– not to mention a mind like a steel trap and the ability to keep a man like Spadille in line. You were saying?"

Okay, maybe she _did_ look like an assassin. Wait a moment.

" _Eight_ layers of kimono?" Thatch repeated, turning to look at his brother. "How did you know it was eight, hm?"

Marco glared. "The sleeves, Thatch. Get your mind out of the gutter."

"If you say so," Thatch carolled, grinning cheerfully and sweeping his eyes across the deck again towards his favourite nurse. He suspected there was more to it than that but didn't ask; Marco didn't know that, after Spadille had finished chatting to Pops, Thatch had followed their blue-haired brother over onto the figurehead in an attempt to pry more information out of him. He didn't want Marco to find out about how _that_ had gone, so not prying into his brother's business would keep the blond from looking for ways to embarrass him right back.

Not that anything _particularly_ blackmail-worthy had happened, but Spadille had been in fine form and very flirtatious indeed. He had also been very tactile. Thatch wasn't into men but getting pounced on by his brother and smirked at as lidded amber eyes _burned_ and the large, blue-haired man started speculating in a low, rough tones about the possible reasons for Thatch's interest in the answers to the questions asked had still been extremely confusing for his poor libido. He hadn't gotten any of the information he wanted but he did have a new appreciation for how cheerful shamelessness could derail a conversation. Oh, and for how _very_ dirty Spadille's mind was: he'd been scarlet and speechless _long_ before his brother had mercy on him and let him go. Thankfully they'd been hidden by that odd haki veil Spadille could use just as well as his wife could or else the ginger would be getting teased just as relentlessly as Marco was. Worse, even: at least Fox was female even if she was married.

* * *

Whenever the Red-Hair Pirates got back to Dawn Island after their various raids on local shipping and other pirates they headed down to Party's Bar to celebrate their successes. This time Benn Beckman was towards the front of the group rather than near the back: he'd promised Fox he'd keep an eye on her kids while she was away and though she should be back by now he still wanted to make sure nothing untoward had happened in his absence. He'd already had to patch up Ace after he and Blaze tangled with a mother tiger and the darker twin failed to dodge quite fast enough. The boy's injuries had healed quickly but the faint scars on his shoulder-blade and thigh would be there for the rest of his life. Beckman was amazed the boy hadn't been more badly injured, though the uncharacteristic fury on Blaze's face and the disturbingly squashy tiger corpse the redhead had dragged home the next day and asked for help skinning suggested that Shanks' son had inherited the redhead's protective streak in spades.

Entering the building behind his captain Beckman noticed Ace sitting at the bar and scowling moodily at the half-finished glass of juice sitting in front of him. Unlike Luffy, neither twin ever rose to Shanks' teasing about their age as both were perfectly at peace with being too young for any number of things just yet. When Shanks did tease them about being too young for something Blaze was generally happy to point out later and in private that they wouldn't be for many years more and then he'd have a _grown-up_ son. This would mean Shanks would be _old_. The ten-year-old saying this invariably made the older redhead complain plaintively that Blaze was being mean and the teasing would devolve into childish name-calling, general silliness and playful roughhousing. Oh, and the occasional tickle fight which the twins generally won due to having twice as many hands between them than Shanks did by himself.

"Hey there brat," Beckman said easily, leaning against the bar and nodding to Makino. "Everyone still alive?"

"Luffy got chased by the Maki family's billygoat two days after you left," Ace said shortly, "but he only got bruises. Oh, and Mum got back three days ago. Dad had to leave yesterday afternoon though."

Missing the Red-Hair Pirates by slightly over twenty-four hours; Beckman was rather curious as to how the mysterious Spadille managed to always have 'just left' when they got back. It could not possibly be a coincidence. Not with this many 'coincidences'.

"What Ace isn't saying," Makino added with a smile, "is that Fox is pregnant again. Spadille was doting on her unstintingly and fussing about every little thing. I was wondering when this would happen: they both love children and Orchis will be five tomorrow. Fox is only twenty-six after all, so it isn't like she's too old for more."

Beckman had been in the process of lighting his cigarette when Makino divulged Fox's age; his hands froze in mid-air as a little further down the bar Shanks choked on his sake.

"T-twenty-six?" his captain repeated after his coughing fit, looking slightly pale. "I thought she was twenty-nine! Or older!"

So had Beckman. Being twenty-six meant Fox was roughly a year younger than Shanks, half a year at the very least. The first mate quickly dropped the forgotten match as it burned his fingers and pondered this new information. This meant she'd been fourteen when she met Shanks and he got her pregnant. Fourteen was definitely _too_ young to be a mother. Not that Shanks' becoming a father at fifteen was much of an improvement.

"She is very mature, isn't she?" Makino agreed with a smile. Beckman's brain then reminded him what else the barkeep had just said: Fox was pregnant. It generally took about six weeks for a woman to realise she was expecting, which made it _very_ likely that the child was his. Oh _dear_.

"You said Fox was pregnant, Makino-san?" the first mate said casually. "I'll have to extend my congratulations; how far along is she?"

Makino beamed at the tall pirate's interest in matters that were generally only of interest to women. "Barely a week along: Fox _always_ knows," she confided. "It's remarkable really how she can spot it, even in other women. It's a multiple pregnancy too: her husband was all in a tizzy about it."

Beckman chalked up Fox's apparent knowing when she was pregnant almost as soon as it happened as part of her Devil Fruit Ability, which clearly involved more than just the healing white fire, and heaved a mental sigh of relief at being off the hook. Having a child who was a younger half-sibling to his captain's son was _not_ something he would be comfortable with. "Multiple pregnancy, Makino-san?" he asked.

"At least triplets," Ace said, speaking up for the first time since Beckman initially addressed him, "but Mum thinks there might be one more."

Makino blinked. "But she only said twins yesterday, Ace!"

Ace shrugged. "Mum says non-identical twins show up sequentially, so it's probably something to do with that," the boy said in tones of obvious disinterest. "She's being weird."

Makino smiled gently. "Pregnant women are expected to be weird Ace: it's normal."

Ace scowled. "I know _that_ ," he said grumpily, "I remember when she was pregnant with Orchis. But that was a different kind of weird." Makino smiled indulgently down at the boy then went to serve the rest of the crew more drinks. The first mate waited until she was out of earshot to continue the conversation:

"Oh?" He lit his cigarette and shook out the match. The twins were perceptive. "Different how?"

Ace gave him a very measuring look. Beckman recognised it, having seen it often on Blaze's face: it was the look that said the ten-year-old was considering his trustworthiness and whether or not sharing would produce the desired outcome. A very mercenary look on a child, but the boys did have cause. Hanging around Fuusha had shown Beckman that while Fox and her brood were tolerated they didn't really belong. Makino was the only person who really accepted the blonde woman and the twins; the younger children got a lot more leeway, having been born in the village.

"With Orchis she was all over the place with her feelings, eating really yucky things and got very twitchy about potential dangers near the house," Ace said deliberately, his eyes boring holes in Beckman. "Dad said that was all normal. But yesterday before he left he said there'd been a _miscommunication_ while they were away and Mum was still a bit fragile, so she needed lots of hugs until she was better again."

Ace pronounced the word 'miscommunication' with care and emphasised it in a way that indicated he _knew_ his father was hiding something but wasn't quite sure what. Being a pirate and combat veteran Beckman knew any number of ways a 'miscommunication' could go, many of them involving the pointless deaths of comrades, bitter recriminations and permanent splits. What was Spadille up to that would make his wife 'fragile' when he was consistently described as an incredibly devoted husband?

"Do you want me to stop by and talk to her?" he asked, blowing out a cloud of smoke.

"Yes. Please." Well, that was about as clear as could be. Beckman straightened.

"Lead on then, brat."

* * *

On reaching the front door of the house Ace paused, then glanced up at Beckman.

"You can do Observation, right?"

Beckman inclined his head and flicked the cigarette butt away. Smoking near pregnant women really wasn't the done thing.

"Can you sense anyone in the house?" Ace asked as he opened the door and slipped off his shoes.

Beckman reached out with haki, sensing the 'voices' around him. There was Ace here, Matsuri out in the back yard training and… nobody else. How odd. "Nobody," he told the ten-year-old. "Do you know where they went?"

Ace raised an eyebrow. "Nobody's _gone_ anywhere," he said flatly. "Mum's just hiding them, so she's probably gone to sleep and doing it by accident. We'll have to hold hands or else she might react badly to you; Dad says pregnancy makes her paranoid and unapologetic."

Which was a poor combination in a woman as capable as Fox was; the first mate wasn't interested in dying just yet. Beckman shed his shoes, accepted the proffered hand and let Ace lead him down the hall.

The dark-haired twin slid the door of the main room open to reveal a futon unrolled in the middle of the floor with Fox sprawled across it wearing a carelessly belted yukata. Blaze was pressed against her back with his face buried in her neck and Luffy was sprawled across her legs with his face pressed against her stomach. Orchis was curled up in a tight ball over her mother's chest, face pressed into the top of the blonde's cleavage. It was a picture that managed to be both adorably domestic and oddly sensual. Ace tugged the tall pirate closer, then carefully knelt in front of his mother's strangely tense face and pressed a kiss to her lips.

Golden eyes opened and immediately focused on the ten-year-old.

"Ace, sweetie," Fox said quietly.

"Dad said you had to rest," Ace said firmly, "but even though you sleep when Dad's away you only really rest when Beckman's cuddling you. So I brought him."

That sneaky little… Beckman was reluctantly impressed by the sheer brazen daring of the black-haired monster who'd dragged him up here. Both twins were clearly more than capable of emotional blackmail no matter how innocent they were in doing it.

"Did you ask?" Fox inquired, raising an eyebrow as amusement flickered across her features. "He has only just got back from being at sea, after all."

"He offered to come and see you!" Ace protested, not raising his voice much in deference to his still-sleeping siblings. "I didn't have to ask!"

Beckman could see two ways this would go. One, he could let Fox persuade Ace to let him go and thereby earn the boy's eternal enmity –because Ace held onto grudges until his mother persuaded him to drop them– or he could go with the flow and join the puppy pile. Well, he wasn't all that interested in going back to Party's Bar and getting drunk and the brief scare when Makino announced Fox's pregnancy had rather put him off even the idea of sex for the time being, so why not?

"How about we move everyone to your mother's bedroom, Ace," the tall pirate said quietly. "That futon doesn't look all that comfortable. You carry Luffy, I'll carry your mother and Orchis." Blaze was awake and had been ever since his twin entered the room, so the redhead could take himself, bleary-eyed but perfectly capable of independent movement.

The look of apologetic gratitude on Fox's face at his implicit acceptance of the situation soothed his slight irritation at being boxed in by the brat, but the sheer relief on Ace and Blaze's faces told a story all of its own. Clearly the 'miscommunication' was affecting her in ways they were finding upsetting and with their father gone they really had nobody else to turn to for help. Well, he could try at least. Fox was a friend.

Ten minutes later, piled into Fox's very large bed with the lady of the house snuggled closely against his chest and the kids clustered around them, Beckman realised what Blaze had meant when he said his mother didn't sleep properly unless someone strong was 'protecting' her: the tension that had marred her features while sleeping on the futon was gone as though it had never existed and she wasn't instinctively using haki to hide their presence even as she slid back into dreamland. The first mate had to admit to himself however that this was by far the strangest favour he'd ever done for anyone. Which was saying something, considering he had been Shanks' first mate for longer than the twins had been alive.

* * *

In following month Beckman spent quite a bit of time around Fox and her kids, mostly because it turned out the blonde was one of those women who found pregnancy energising rather than tiring and managed to avoid morning sickness altogether. She drilled the newly-five-year-old Orchis in haki exercises, some of which were entirely new to him and others which were similar to the ones he'd been taught after accessing his own haki, and sparred relentlessly with Luffy until he could actually reach his Busoshoku Haki sometimes, if not reliably control it. The younger boy was gradually getting better with Kenbunshoku too, but it was a slow business. The twins were given access life steel and threatened with terrible punishment if they did not use it responsibly, but the two ten-year-olds were ecstatic and started experimenting with various different weapons in search of something that felt right. Ace was gravitating towards trench knives with a blade that extended across the knuckle but Blaze was torn between long daggers and a straight sabre like his father's. In the past months Shanks had sparred with his son a good many times and the younger redhead's opinion of him had risen slowly but surely as Beckman's captain showed the boy the usually-hidden parts of his personality that had driven him to become one of the four most feared pirates on the Grand Line. Blaze respected Shanks a great deal and even loved him in a quiet, understated way that was terribly out-of-place in a child, but neither twin really trusted the pirate captain with their mother. Luffy was oblivious to the tension but Orchis had picked up on it and made no effort to hide her decided preference for Beckman or her lingering distrust of Shanks. This was in contrast with Matsuri who was starting to ease up around both of them.

Fox didn't just train the children either: Beckman had been privileged enough to watch the blonde thrash Shanks in a sword spar through superior speed, pinpoint control and an interesting repertoire of rather dirty tricks. The redhead had bounced between grumpy and delighted afterwards and had babbled happily about how he really needed to track down Hawk-Eyes so _he_ could spar against Fox –who really had to be closely related to the guy– and see how he measured up. Shanks bet a bottle of sake that Fox would win the first few hits and Beckman suspected he was right. The blonde was certainly fast enough.

Then, shortly after Luffy's seventh birthday, Fox approached both pirates to tell them that she would be taking the twins on a month-long training trip and asked them to keep an eye on Luffy and Orchis for her. Matsuri was in charge of feeding them and all the domestic things, but Fox confessed she'd feel better knowing that if anything unexpected came up –like a pirate raid– there'd be someone looking out for her little ones' welfare. Shanks agreed without even thinking about it; Beckman suspected he was still feeling slightly guilty about the age thing. Careful inquiry had revealed that Fox had been fifteen –just– when she'd met Shanks, but barely fifteen wasn't much better than fourteen in Beckman's opinion and while at that age Shanks had been in command of a pirate crew –himself included– that was nothing compared to the responsibility of raising a child. Never mind that she'd been raising Blaze and Ace as twins alone and largely unsupported from the tender age of sixteen.

But they had agreed, so Fox collected her two older boys and headed out in the opposite direction to the mountains and the forest, across farmland and empty plains. The young mother had confided that this was intended as a training trip, not a survival trip, so the forest was unsuitable. Beckman took her word for it, wished the twins luck and settled down to a month of dealing with the seven-year-old loudmouth his captain _still_ called 'Anchor' without the boy's mother there to rein him in. Orchis at least was easy to manage.

* * *

Ten days later Beckman was supervising the crew as they went about the daily and to be honest rather mind-numbing tasks associated with keeping their vessel suitably shipshape when Shanks, who was just standing around, said:

"Oi! What are you doing, Luffy?"

Beckman looked up to see said seven-year-old standing on the figurehead holding a knife. The boy looked rather agitated, likely a product of having been left at the mercy of Shanks' almost constant teasing now the redhead didn't have his son around to distract him and encourage him to be serious.

"I'm not joking this time!" Luffy shouted, waving the short blade. "I've had enough! I'll prove it for you all to see!"

"Dahaha! Go for it!" Shanks shouted back, waving a fist. "Let's see what you're going to do!"

"Luffy's going to do something funny again," commented Axe with a grin, leaning back against the ship's railing and adjusting his sunglasses. Beckman wasn't too sure it was going to be funny: Luffy was stupidly impulsive at times. He'd got the full story about the billygoat from Makino and it had been a classic example of the seven-year-old's inability to consider the possible consequences of his actions.

Luffy raised the knife dramatically then turned it on himself and jabbed it into his face right underneath his left eye. Beckman's jaw dropped; so did everybody else's. Oh, Fox was going to _kill_ them when she got home! Then there was Matsuri, who might be terribly wary of men but adored the children and had a very strong throwing arm. She'd already bounced copper weights off Shanks' head once this week for teasing Luffy almost to tears.

"Idiot! What the hell are you doing?!" Shanks yelled, his face pale as the same thought clearly occurred to him.

"Owwww!" Luffy wailed, dropping the knife to clatter onto the figurehead and over the edge into the sea as he clutched at his face. Shanks dashed forwards to grab the boy before he followed the blade into the water and Beckman quickly directed the crew to finish their chores. Shanks would take Luffy to Makino for treatment but the sooner the days' work was over the sooner he could have a drink. He needed one. He also wanted to check that Orchis wasn't doing anything as dumb as her brother just had. It was pretty unlikely –the plum-haired girl had a good head on her shoulders despite being only five– but he needed the reassurance right now.

* * *

Sitting beside his usual table with his drink next to him and Orchis _under_ the table reading a book, Beckman watched Shanks tease Luffy about being a kid, being unable to swim and not being old enough to be a pirate. Though the rest of the crew certainly did nothing to discourage the seven-year-old, right up until Shanks suggested one of them give up their place on the ship to the boy. Then again, the crew didn't know Fox very well: they thought she was just a very classy local lady that their first mate had taken a shine to, or went with the villagers' belief that he and Fox were old friends. Possibly even distant relatives. Only Shanks' officers knew that Blaze was actually their captain's son and all of them knew how to keep their mouths shut.

As Luffy pouted and wandered away from Shanks Beckman decided to do what he could to calm the kid down.

"Luffy, you should try to understand Captain's feelings," the tall pirate said, lighting a cigarette.

"Understand Shanks' feelings?" the seven-year-old parroted.

"Yes; after all he is our leader," Beckman explained, shaking the match until it went out. "He knows that being a pirate is interesting, but he also knows a pirate's life is very dangerous." Fox was being startlingly indulgent in humouring her youngest son's ambition but Beckman knew she wouldn't let the boy out of her reach until she _knew_ he could look after himself. Better all around that Luffy not even try and thereby avoid all kinds of trouble. "Do you understand? He doesn't deliberately belittle your ambition of becoming a pirate."

"I don't get it!" Luffy huffed, the plaster across his cheekbone shifting as he grimaced. "Shanks just takes me for an idiot!"

"Can't swim!" said redhead chortled from his seat at the bar, turning around to snigger in Luffy's direction. Beckman sighed, a little embarrassed by his captain's cheerful foolery. Yes, Shanks was a good captain but when he didn't have anything in particular he needed to be serious about he could get very irresponsible. It usually meant that a lot of responsibility got dumped on Beckman's lap until the Captain saw fit to retrieve it.

"Captain, you seem to be happy as always," Makino said, carrying a new barrel into the bar.

"Yep, making fun of him is my joy," Shanks admitted shamelessly as he leant back against the bar and slouched in his seat.

"He really is _very_ happy," Beckman conceded as Luffy glared at him and pointed at Shanks, who had just proved the boy's words to be correct. Then Makino distracted the seven-year-old with the offer of food and Beckman noticed it was actually lunchtime.

"Orchis-chan?" he said, leaning down so he could look under the table.

The plum-haired girl looked up from her book. "Yes, Uncle Beckman?"

"Would you like some lunch, Flower?" he asked gently. He didn't have any kids of his own –that he knew of anyway– but if he could find a woman as grounded and easygoing as Fox to fall in love with he might actually consider having some. Orchis was a treasure.

Plum-coloured eyes brightened. "Yes please, Uncle Beckman!" the little girl said enthusiastically. "Can I have ham? And can I eat it down here?"

"Yes, you can have ham," the first mate said, "but you have to eat at the table properly." He caught Makino's eye as he said this and the barkeep smiled, nodded and went to prepare the food.

Orchis pouted. "But Uncle Beckman!" she protested. For some reason, she really liked sitting down there. It was cute, but not really something that he should be encouraging.

"At the table, Orchis-chan," Beckman said firmly. The little girl wilted.

"Yes, Uncle Beckman," she mumbled and scrambled out, straightening her lavender-and white butterfly-print summer dress before climbing up onto the chair opposite his. Beckman had never been one for fashion but he'd watched Fox make that very dress just three weeks previously while at the same time she was instructing the twins in how to make their own shirts. In fact, the shirt his captain was currently wearing had been made by Fox back in the autumn to replace the one that had been shredded to provide bandages for Ace after that eventful swimming lesson the previous June. Watching her sew seams without even looking at her fingers gave evidence to the twins' assertion that their mother was perfect in every way that mattered. She was certainly highly domestic, an excellent parent, a skilled tactician and an unparalleled combatant. She still wasn't his type though: that certain gleam she occasionally got in her eye disturbed him in ways even his captain couldn't match. He was fairly certain he had a better grasp of the scope of Fox's education and past than his captain did; she was definitely not a common killer who had fallen into the assassination trade by chance or mere aptitude. Her age further impressed this fact upon him.

Beckman turned his attention to Orchis and asked her about what she'd been reading, which kept the little girl happily occupied until Makino returned with a plate of ham, rice and vegetables, cutlery and a napkin. The five-year-old then started her food and the first mate went back to casually eavesdropping on Shanks and Luffy's conversation over their own lunches, not commenting when Orchis slid back under the table once her plate was cleared.

Then somebody kicked in the door of the bar.

* * *

Shanks first noticed Orchis crouching under his first mate's chair, her book hugged to her chest and her eyes firmly on the floor, when he bent down to pick up the broken glass after Higuma broke the last bottle of sake over his head. He honestly hadn't realised Makino was almost out, but ensuring the bandit's attention stayed on him rather than the barkeep was easy and he didn't mind the mess. Smashing Makino's plates and damaging the bar was rude of the man though; it wasn't her fault the Red-Hair Pirates had drunk all her stock again. A lot of it had probably gone to drowning out the musings Shanks couldn't quite stifle on the nature of his first mate's relationship with Fox.

The five-year-old stayed where she was all through Anchor's outburst and the subsequent discovery that the seven-year-old had accidentally eaten Devil Fruit, which distracted Shanks from keeping an eye on her for several minutes more as he was busy freaking out about what Fox would do to him for being careless and indirectly ensuring Anchor would be a hammer for the rest of his life. Sadly that only registered in the boy's mind as his having become like his mother and 'Nee-chan', which he was rather thrilled by and instantly dashed out of the bar to tell Matsuri about. After he'd left Shanks collapsed onto one of the bar stools and let his head hit the bar with a thud.

"Fox is going to _murder_ me," he groaned. "First Anchor stabbing himself in the face and now eating Devil Fruit? I'm doomed!" He ignored the part of his mind that insisted that getting killed by Fox would be a very nice way to go; yes she _was_ devastatingly gorgeous but she was no less married now than she had been when he first saw her in Party's Bar last year and she was pregnant to boot. He wasn't going to lust after someone else's wife –especially not their _pregnant_ wife– if he could possibly help it.

"Why did you let the bandits go?" asked a high, childish and very disapproving voice from behind him. Shanks turned so he could see Orchis, who had just scrambled out from under his first mate's chair and was frowning at him.

Shanks smiled. "Some spilt food isn't anything to get worked up over, Orchis-chan."

The little girl rolled her eyes at him. "I know that; I'm not stupid like Luffy," she said impatiently. "But before when bandits came into town and upset Makino-san Mummy dealt with them. Daddy says that proper grown-ups don't let people like that near children."

"Dealt with them?" Shanks repeated, glancing over at Makino who had just finished mopping up. Makino's eyes darted over to the five-year-old and back to Shanks.

"They certainly never came back," the barkeep said brightly, strain only just visible around her eyes. "We've never had any pirate trouble either and all the seasonal visitors know better than to throw their weight around. Fox and Spadille are pretty intolerant to anything that might threaten their children; even the Lord of the Coast keeps his distance most of the time."

So Makino knew Fox had killed people and had no qualms about killing more people if sufficiently provoked.

"Ace said a bandit was really mean to Makino-san once but Mummy stopped him," Orchis said matter-of-factly. "Since then Mummy made sure they never got as far as the village." She frowned. "She's going to be very cross if they're still around when she gets back." With that the five-year-old picked up her bag and hurried out of the bar after her brother.

Shanks eyed Makino with concern. "Really mean?" he asked quietly. Bandits, pirates, Marines or supposedly law-abiding citizens, people were all people and some people were scum. Makino was a lovely lady and surprisingly strong for a civilian, especially for East Blue but there wasn't much she'd be able to do against a man with violence on his mind.

"Fox dealt with him before he got that far," the barkeep admitted equally quietly, her face slightly pinched. "She acts as bouncer if any of the customers get unruly and can get even the most belligerent drunk to sit down and shut up." She shivered. "I didn't know she was why we haven't had any bandit activity for the better part of a decade but it does make sense."

"What did she do to..?" Shanks' voice trailed off.

Makino smiled. It was a small, wobbly smile but still a smile. "She ripped him clean in two with her hair," the barkeep said a little unsteadily, a faint thread of remembered hysteria weaving through her voice. "Just appeared behind him and never even hesitated. Who _does_ that? Then she apologised for not arriving sooner! Apologised!" she giggled nervously. "It certainly had his men fleeing as quickly as they could though. Not that Fox let them get away either."

Shanks felt his perception of his son's mother tilt sideways a little. He'd known she could kill, but a willingness to commit that kind of graphic violence without even letting your opponent _see_ you indicated a cold disregard for human life that was usually accompanied by a casual disregard for just about anything else, which Fox lacked altogether. She openly and obviously cared about the people around her and nothing about her was casual. Everything was thoughtful, deliberate and followed through upon until completed without any lingering loose ends. He and Beckman _had_ recently discovered however that her 'brother' who visited once a year was actually the Revolutionary Dragon, which raised all kinds of interesting questions about her past. And her present come to that, though it _did_ explain her literature collection.

But not why the world's most wanted man took the time to entertain her children whenever he was visiting. That was a total mystery. Wait, wasn't Luffy Fox's-

Then Matsuri stormed into the bar and bombarded him with painfully accurate conjured bronze juggling balls, chasing him out of the door and all the way back to his ship while cursing fluently and eloquently about his appearance, manner, parentage and habits as his crew laughed loudly at his misfortune. Nursing his bruises, Shanks decided that with the bar dry and Matsuri angry enough at him to forget her nervousness, he'd be better off taking his men out for another trip.

It wasn't until they were out at sea the next day that he remembered Orchis' comment about the bandits coming back, but he dismissed it. Why would they bother? Shanks wasn't usually the plundering sort of pirate but he knew that most wouldn't attack a small port town like this one as it really wasn't rich enough to be worth the effort.

He later regretted that particular decision.

* * *

"I was wondering why nobody greeted us at the port," Shanks said idly as he came up behind Makino and the mayor, his cheerful tones at odds with the thoughts running through his mind at high speed as he ambled closer to the disaster unfolding in the middle of the street. "So this is why…"

Luffy was sprawled out on the ground under the foot of the bandit who'd dumped sake on him two weeks previously, Orchis dangling helplessly in the man's grip. Higuma's fingers were leaving bruises on her upper arm and her face was bruised as well but there was a reddish fire burning in lidded purple eyes that indicated that as soon as the bandit let go of her he was going to _suffer_. Well, at least she wasn't scared. The least he could do at this point was try to distract the man from the children; Fox might not be due back for half a week but he would need that long to work out a way to tell her about this that would enable him to go on living. And he'd thought the Devil Fruit thing would be bad…

"Hey, you guys were the bandits from the other day," he said brightly. "Luffy! What's wrong? Isn't your punch as strong as pistol fire?"

"Shut up!" Luffy shouted, his eyes darting from Shanks up to his little sister and back again.

"Pirate, why are you still here?" Higuma drawled. "Are you going to clean up the whole town this time? I suggest you leave right now: if you get any closer I might have to open fire, you coward."

Shanks ignored the threat; the bandit was small fry. The only reason he hadn't gone on the offensive yet was the presence of hostages. Orchis however had noticed his shift in demeanour and responded appropriately: her eyes were now firmly closed and she'd lifted up her hands to stuff her fingers in her ears. Smart kid. That she knew to do that said quite a lot about her mother though.

"Didn't you hear? You were told not to go any closer!" a bandit taunted him, pointing a pistol at his head. "Do you want to get shot?" He laughed, the rest of the bandits joining in.

"Well, since you pulled out your gun I guess we'll have to fight," Shanks said calmly, knowing his voice would carry to the rest of his crew lurking in the side-streets.

"Huh? What did you say?" It was hilarious really how this bandit thought Shanks should consider him a threat. The pirate had met scarier goldfish. He pointed a finger at the pistol:

"I said, don't use this to scare people."

Then Lucky Roo shot the idiot in the head at point-blank range.

* * *

Three minutes later all the bandits except Higuma were scattered across the ground like rag dolls, unconscious and probably dying after Beckman had laid into them using his rifle as a club. Shanks could see several visibly dented skulls and he doubted the others were any better off.

"Don't overestimate yourselves, bandits," his first mate said as he lit himself a new cigarette with one hand and pointed the rifle at the bandit leader with the other. "If you want to fight us you'd better get a fleet of Marines to back you up." Beckman wasn't usually that violent against small fry, but the tall pirate _was_ very fond of Orchis. If they hadn't spent most of the past year hanging around here he might never have found out that his first mate was good with kids. Better than Shanks himself was, at any rate.

"Wait a minute! These little brats messed with us first!" Higuma said, his cowardice surfacing now that he no longer had the upper hand.

"It doesn't matter," Shanks said coolly. "After all there's a price on your head." Once you had a bounty you lost the protection of the law –such as it was– and had no rights at all. You were entirely dependent on your own strength, the strength of your comrades and the courtesy of strangers. Makino didn't have to take his money: she could have called the Marines –even Garp himself– down on him and his crew when they first walked into her bar and he wouldn't have faulted her for it. They were, after all, wanted pirates.

The bandit paled, then his face set and there was a blast of white smoke. Luffy screamed.

"Let go of her you bastard! Orchis! Orchis! _Orchis!_ "

The smoke cleared and Luffy stumbled to his feet looking rather worse for wear and launched himself at Shanks, fists and feet pounding on the pirate's knees and shins.

"Why didn't you kill him? Why didn't you stop him? He took my _sister_!" The little boy howled, snot and tears pouring down his face.

Urk! Shanks went stark white and his eyes bulged. He was so, so dead!

* * *

Fox was sparring with Ace along the top of the cliffs two days' walk away from Fuusha when she sensed Orchis' pain and shock echo down the thin connection that stretched between her and her daughter. Fox had bonds with all her children, though they were of differing intensity. Blaze and Orchis as the children of her body were the most strongly connected, though Ace wasn't far behind what with how involved the blonde had been in maintaining Rouge's health during her pregnancy. Luffy on the other hand she hadn't really got to know until after he was born. Of course these bonds were several orders of magnitude less intense than the ones she had with her husbands: her children were just connected enough to her for them to be utterly confident that she loved them. Orchis and the twins were also faintly aware of her general emotional state if they were in physical contact with her but Luffy was not. Fox on the other hand was not only constantly aware of all her children's emotional state but their physical health. It had always made the early stages of childrearing so much easier as she just _knew_ what the problem was if her babies started crying. Her husbands had their own methods which were almost as accurate, but couldn't monitor the children long-distrance except through her.

However having Luffy's sudden terror and Orchis abrupt fury hit her was not remotely reassuring when she was over thirty miles away from them and couldn't feasibly abandon her elder children in order to rescue the younger ones. Well, she could but she refused to. She didn't know what kind of situation she'd be entering and wanted all her children to hand. So she would have to resort to a more time-consuming method of travel than teleportation but one quicker than running or flying, which would both be awkward with both boys hanging onto her: swimming.

Most Devil Fruit Users couldn't swim, sinking like hammers the moment they come into contact with standing water. Fox was no different but got around the problem through a creative application of her Devil Fruit which enabled her to put on another, larger skin over her own and so prevent herself from coming into direct contact with the sea. She'd discovered this trick was possible entirely by accident back when she'd actually been fifteen for real and had turned her first lover into a shark in the heat of the moment. That was still up there in her top five most embarrassing moments ever. However she'd learnt to consciously control that aspect of her Ability and harnessed it to make her living letter-cases, her sea chests and to grant herself a second form that was so much larger than her own that it gave her a significant advantage in the water, even on Grand Line.

"Boys, Orchis and Luffy are in trouble: we're going back," she said shortly, leaping back from Ace and picking up her bag. The dark twin paled and sheathed his knives as behind him Blaze grabbed the other two bags and hurried forwards, giving one of them to Ace.

"How are we getting home?" the redhead asked. "It took us two days to get here!"

"I'm going to carry you," Fox said firmly, handing her own bag over to Ace who lifted it easily in addition to his own. "Don't be frightened, okay?"

"We trust you Mum," Ace said simply as Blaze nodded firmly.

"Good boys," Fox said with a smile, then threw herself off the cliff and reached for the part of her that was large, reptilian and venomous. Even as she plummeted towards the sea her skin glowed briefly and then she felt herself wrapped in hot muscle as new eyes opened, different instincts rose to the surface and her sinuous, scaly form plunged into the shallow coastal waters.

Now a two-hundred-foot, poison-green-bodied, golden-maned Travelling Snake, Fox raised her head level with the top of the cliff and projected reassurance at her twin sons, neither of whom hesitated in leaping across onto her head and settling themselves just behind her eyes, holding on tightly to her mane.

"This is so cool!" Ace enthused. "Go Mum!"

Fox snorted, lowered herself into the water until only the top of her head was above the surface and then shot away up the coast towards Fuusha. In this form she would reach the village in less than an hour. Hopefully that would be fast enough. If it wasn't, well then she would have to resort to more drastic measures.

She reached the edge of the village just as Luffy's emotions spiked into anger and despair and Orchis' simmering fury became mingled with dread once more. Fox unceremoniously launched both boys and the luggage onto the beach then dived beneath the waves, circling around under the surface as the scum holding her daughter hostage got into a boat and set out across the water. The Lord of the Coast also responded to the disturbance, but turned tail and fled as soon as Fox glared at it. That she was a Yuda meant she inspired instinctive terror in Sea Kings; that she was rather larger than this particular specimen meant it didn't even try to put up a brave front.

Staying just low enough not to be immediately noticeable, she listened.

"Hahahah!" the bandit laughed, "Looks like we got away! Who would've thought a bandit would escape by boat?!" A pause. "Well I picked you up to use as a hostage but you're a pretty little thing, aren't you? I could get good money for you on the slave market."

Fox projected assurance and support to her precious daughter, whose sudden awareness that rescue was to hand enabled the little girl's rage to overcome her fear again. There was a thud, a grunt and a clattering in the boat above her head; Fox smirked toothily. Her sweet little baby had just punched the man in the groin.

"Why you little-!" The bandit swore, his voice now much higher-pitched. "I'm gonna kill you, you little brat! I've killed fifty-six people who crossed me before, you know?!"

Just fifty-six? Fox had killed well over a hundred times that many people and that was just the ones whose lives she'd ended personally by her own hands. The accidentals deaths when she first gained her Ability, her first massacre, several places she'd levelled including a few of Doflamingo's operating bases, not to mention all those contracts and that was before even meeting the Straw-Hats. She'd been instrumental in the deaths of many more since then, sinking ships, blowing up buildings, ruining food supplies and committing various other acts of sabotage that had likely killed as many again, directly or subsequently.

Orchis didn't stick around to find out what her attacker had in store for her, scrambling up onto the prow of the boat and throwing herself into the water.

"Good riddance!" The bandit gasped.

Fox rose up underneath her daughter, the little girl grasping her mane as her massive, wedge-shaped head emerged from the water and she opened her mouth to bare long teeth and forked tongue at the bandit who had threatened her precious baby with a fate worse than death.

"Kyaaaaaaaaa!" he screamed as Fox lunged, biting down and worrying on his body like a terrier on a rat. The screaming stopped very quickly. Fox spat him out again in pieces with the remains of the boat, not really satisfied –his death had been far too quick– but prepared to make do. Then again, the whole mess was largely Shanks' fault so she now had to make sure he understood how _very_ displeased she was with how this had turned out. If he'd been a bit less lazy this would never have happened.

She turned her head towards the shore and the anchored pirate ship, homing in on the utterly dumbfounded pirate standing on the dock with her youngest son clinging to his trouser leg.

* * *

Shanks stood frozen on the dock, staring in horror at the Yuda now making a beeline for the shore. Yuda were rare even on the Grand Line and far, far more dangerous than Sea Kings. For one they were horribly venomous, but more of a problem was their unpredictable reaction to Haoshoku Haki. Even the strongest of Sea Kings would become biddable if you blasted them with enough of the Colour of the Conquering King, but a fully grown Yuda was just as likely to eyeball you right back, smash your ship to kindling and then gobble up your crew at its leisure. If it had just been the Yuda Shanks would have had no qualms about grabbing Luffy and fleeing further inland, but Fox's daughter was clinging to the Travelling Snake's head which meant flight was unthinkable. He _had_ to get the little girl back.

"Captain?" Shanks didn't look back at his assembled crew. They knew how he thought so they would know what his decision was.

"Wait for it," he said as calmly as he could manage. He'd never seen a blonde Yuda before though. He'd thought they only had black manes.

"Shanks!" That did make him turn, or at least half-turn. How had his son got here?! Had Fox come back early? Where was she?

Ace dashed up to the dock, Blaze right behind him. "Oh thank goodness," the smaller redhead panted, grinning, "Mum got there in time."

"Mum..?" Shanks turned back to the Yuda, which was now almost upon them. A blonde Yuda, one that was carrying Orchis on its head and had turned the bandit into so much meat before spitting him out again. Which was actually a distinctly human thing to do… his eyes went wide.

" _That's_ your _mother_?!"

The Yuda paused at the dock, lowering its head so that the five-year-old clinging to its mane tumbled forwards to balance on the tip of its nose. Then there was a muted white glow that encompassed the serpent and suddenly Fox was standing on the shore, her daughter balanced on one hip and a singularly displeased look on her face. Orchis was soaking wet and bleeding sluggishly from a swollen cut on her left temple that the salt water had partially cauterised.

"Mum!" Luffy slipped out of Shanks' grip and dashed forwards as the blonde stooped to scoop up the bruised boy and balance him on her other hip. Luffy promptly buried his face in her shoulder and burst into noisy tears. Orchis, interestingly, wasn't crying at all.

"Red-Hair Shanks," Fox said evenly with shadowed eyes and a faint, polite smile on her face that had his hindbrain screaming at him to run away! Before it was too late! "Might I ask why, after leaving my children in your care, _both_ of them have suffered permanent harm?" Her braids rippled, unwinding from the back of her head to coil anticipatorily at her feet.

Shanks opened his mouth but no sound came out. His eloquence had deserted him alongside his charisma, his courage and his common sense. All he could think of was how very much she looked like Master Rayleigh as a single eyebrow arched inquiringly and her face tightened with restrained ire. This _had_ to be what had been bugging him about her appearance since he'd met her again.

"Nothing to say?" Fox whispered ominously. Her braids lashed out, catching the pirate captain around the throat and knotting tightly around his arms as they lifted him clean off his feet. All too late Shanks tried to say something, _anything_ , but it was getting difficult to breathe and his blood was pounding in his ears.

Wait a moment: the hair coiling around his throat wasn't tight enough to make him struggle for breath. The sensation of terrible pressure, the implacable glint in Fox's eyes… this was Haoshoku haki! Not perfectly focused but definitely concentrated around himself with his crew only catching the edges of it. He gasped for breath, black dots dancing before his eyes. He hadn't known you could suffocate a person with the Colour of the Conquering King…

"Well, Red-Hair Shanks?" Fox inquired with terrible gentleness, that awful smile never faltering as darkness consumed his vision. He was going to have screaming nightmares about that smile, provided he actually survived this. He was seeing the professional killer he'd suspected she was, but his plight was far worse than being at the mercy of any hired assassin would ever be: the woman facing him was a mother with a grudge.

"Mum?" His son's voice seemed to be coming from very far away.

"What is it, darling boy?" How could a person sound so loving yet so ruthlessly resolute?!

"You said that if you started killing people for being stupid you'd never stop." Well, that was rational. Disturbing, but rational.

"Besides, Uncle Beckman would be upset if you killed his captain." Ooh, Ace was sticking up for him too. He felt so loved! Wait, that didn't sound like him. Was the lack of oxygen making him delirious?

"Luffy?" What, was this a democracy? If so he hoped he'd get the vote.

"M-m-mummy?"

"Are you willing to forgive the Captain for not rescuing you and Orchis sooner? Because he could have done it, you know. He could even have taken steps to ensure you were never taken hostage in the first place."

Ah, his mistake detailed and neatly outlined. Parenting apparently required a proactive or at least rapid response to threats.

"B-b-but it was my fault! I provoked that dumb bandit and he hurt Orchis!"

"It was _not_ your fault, baby boy." Ooh, pressure increase. This was what standing outside the bubble surrounding Fishman Island must be like. He could feel his bones creaking and his lungs sticking together in his chest. "You are just a child. It is the bandit's fault for being an arrogant fool and Shanks' fault for not looking after you like he promised me he would. He knew the bandits were in the area and a threat to you both but he did nothing." True, all of it. He was a really terrible parent, wasn't he?

"He can't say anything if he can't breathe Mummy." Orchis saves the day!

Shanks gasped and twitched as the pressure let up enough for him to drag air into his lungs. Oxygen how I missed thee! His vision gradually returned too, revealing half his crew collapsed in the dirt with the other half –those standing at a greater distance and his officers– swaying but managing to stay upright and hold onto their weapons. They all looked utterly petrified though. He'd never seen so many grey faces in one place. Hell, he'd never seen Beckman go grey _ever_!

"Ahem." The polite cough and gentle shake of the braids holding him aloft called his attention back to the architect of his likely impending demise, who now had a disturbingly familiar expression on her face. That was Master Rayleigh's 'Give-me-a- _convincing_ -reason-not-to-throw-you-overboard' face, the one that had generally shown up when he'd done something careless which got another member of the crew hurt or damaged the ship. Fox had the older man's cheekbones, too…

"Sorry," he managed to rasp.

"Nothing to say in your defence?" Fox mused, raising an eyebrow as her expression shifted seamlessly into Master Rayleigh's 'I'm-only-giving-you-more-rope-so-you-can-hang-yourself-with-it' face. Shanks knew better than to make excuses when confronted with that particular expression. He'd been well trained.

"No excuse," he coughed, blood trickling into his mouth down the back of his throat from a ruptured blood vessel that hadn't been able to take the strain.

Ooh, that was the 'not-so-dumb-after-all' face. He was getting somewhere. The braids gently lowered him to the ground but did not loosen until he had his feet properly under him, retreating to writhe hypnotically around Fox's calves. Her arms were still wrapped around her children; she'd almost killed him in front of his entire crew with her arms full of small children, using just her hair and haki.

Fox was _definitely_ Master Rayleigh's daughter.

"I'm really, really sorry I got your kids hurt," he reiterated more coherently after a few more deep breaths, trying not to sway.

"It was pure carelessness," Fox said in cool condemnation. "You did not consider the bandits a threat to yourself or your crew but failed to recognise that they were a threat to my children in your absence."

Shanks bowed his head. It was the truth.

"You failed to keep your promise to me."

Also true. Shanks dropped to his knees and touched his head to the ground at her feet. "I'm sorry."

A foot clad in a soft shoe kicked him gently in the shoulder. "None of that," Fox said firmly. "Look at me."

Shanks looked up.

"You are a fool," She said calmly with a faintly amused look in her eyes, "but at least you know it. I forgive you. Next time, be more careful in considering the consequences of mercy, hm? Not everyone is as strong as you are."

Shanks scrambled to his feet, hat clutched to his chest. "I will," he said firmly. He would remember. It was an important lesson.

Fox smiled that small, terrifying smile again and a shiver waltzed down his spine. "See that you do," she said warningly before walking past him towards the twins.

"Wait!" he called after her. He _had_ to know!

She half turned. "Hm?"

"Are you related to Silvers Rayleigh?"

Fox smiled. "So you know my father then?"

Shanks felt his face go chalk white. It was one thing to suspect, but to have his suspicions confirmed! "Y-y-you're his daughter?" he managed to ask, feeling faint all over again at the implications.

Fox shrugged a shoulder. "I doubt he's even aware of my existence but his _is_ the name on my birth certificate," she said matter-of-factly before turning her back on him and heading away from the shore, the twins right behind her.

Oh gods help him he'd gotten _Master Rayleigh's_ daughter pregnant when she was fifteen! There was no _way_ he'd be able to avoid confessing this to the former first mate of the Roger Pirates when they passed through Sabaody on their way back to the New World! He couldn't even avoid the old man, as that would make Master Rayleigh hunt him down later to find out why and he'd be in a foul mood about Shanks forcing him to go to all that trouble! He was so, so dead!


	12. Derailed

I go on holiday tomorrow, so no more chapters for over a week. Just warning you all!

* * *

 **Derailed**

The morning after the incident with the bandits Fox received a letter from her father Garp. It was odd referring to the eccentric Vice-Admiral as her father –he'd always been more of a grandfather figure to her due in part to their relative ages in her own world and him being a sort-of father figure to her mother– but she had managed to adapt well enough. She did love the crazy fool dearly though, for all he hadn't the faintest idea how to raise children. The letter told her Garp was coming to visit and was likely already on his way, so she left the children sparring together with Matsuri refereeing –Luffy doing far worse than usual due to his abrupt change in physiology– and headed down to the docks.

She knew the moment the pirates hanging around spotted her, as they went pale and some of them started shaking. Oops. She might have traumatised them.

"I've got news for your captain," she said politely, feeling a little sad. She'd always loved the Red-Hair Pirates as a part of her extended family and now all of them were wary of her. Axe, Demi, Lucky Roo, Florin, Sallee, Yassop, Claws, Zee and all of the others. They'd all been party to raising her and had all made cheerful fun of their captain over her slightly unhealthy attachment to him. She knew them all inside-out but they didn't know her here and she'd forgotten that. So when she raged at their captain for getting her precious babies hurt they didn't just laugh it off, secure in the knowledge that she was Shanks' Eyas and wouldn't harm him for the world. It hurt that she'd never know them here as she had at home, but she would live. It made her feel lonelier than ever though.

Spadille sent her feelings of reassurance tempered by a mental pout that he wouldn't get that threesome with Shanks he'd been hankering after. Fox mentally rolled her eyes at her husband and informed him that, if he could locate the Red-Hair Pirates once they were back on the Grand Line _and_ convince Shanks to have sex with him, she would come and join in the fun. The mischievous glee she got back suggested that he fully intended to hold her to that, though how her Kajin intended to go about seducing the rather solidly heterosexual redhead was a mystery she preferred not to delve into. Spadille was the kind of persuasive that frequently caused people to question their own sanity after he was out of range again. She suspected there was slightly more to it than confidence, charm and sheer force of personality but had never really been able to check.

To his credit Shanks did not hesitate in emerging from his ship and coming over to talk to her, Beckman right behind him. At least these two weren't afraid, but they knew her better.

"Sallee said you had news?" Shanks asked curiously. Fox help out the letter. The pirate captain accepted it, read the first few lines and paused, his eyes widening. "We rather need to get going then," he said seriously, looking up from the paper to meet her eyes.

"I'd rather not be forced to pick a side in that particular clash," Fox admitted, "as I might never be able to forgive myself either way." Shanks brightened considerably at her tacit confession that he mattered to her _that_ much and handed the letter back.

"Thanks for the warning; we'll be gone by tomorrow," he promised with a broad smile. "Oi! Crew! See to it that we're fully stocked: we're going home!"

There was a ragged cheer. Fox suspected they'd be relieved to have more distance between her and them, which made her loneliness all the more pronounced. Damn pregnancy hormones! She was _not_ going to cry!

"Come by for dinner tonight," Fox said, just loudly enough for both Shanks and Beckman to hear her, "please." Both men nodded and she turned away and set off back through the village. Garp would be here within the week and would _not_ be happy to discover Luffy was now a Paramecia. Or the identity of his new role model, come to that. Despite having watched his mother give Red-Hair the shakedown of his life Luffy was somehow more convinced than ever that Shanks was everything he personally aspired to. Possibly because he'd taken the beating like a man and remained standing afterwards when half his crew were grey with fear and the other half were unconscious –never mind that Fox's ire hadn't even been focused on them. Fox supposed that Shanks still being composed and collected enough to apologise afterwards won him lots of cool points.

* * *

The dinner went pretty well, but afterwards when the two pirates were leaving Shanks made the mistake of mentioning within Orchis' hearing that they were departing the next morning and the plum-haired five-year-old exploded in wild fury, kicking the redheaded captain in the shin and raving about how he was taking her Uncle Beckman away. Fox, who had been expecting an outburst of some kind after seeing the red gleam in her daughter's eyes the previous day, managed to grab her before she did any serious damage and clutched her enraged baby to her chest until the tired little girl burst into floods of tears.

"Hush hush, poppet," Fox crooned, "hush. I still love you. It's okay. You just inherited your Daddy's temper, that's all. Hush hush."

Orchis sobbed and wailed but eventually subsided into sniffles. She also resolutely ignored Shanks when the captain leaned close to kiss Fox goodbye –the first time he'd kissed her since seeing her again– but hugged Beckman desperately and burst into tears again when he put her down.

"None of that, Flower," the first mate said gently. "You aren't going to be small forever, are you? I'll see you again once you're old enough to make your own way in the world, I'm sure."

"Promise?" Orchis hiccupped.

"I promise." Beckman smiled, then turned to follow his captain back down the road towards the village. Fox picked her daughter up again and held her close as the girl sobbed her heartbreak into her mother's shirt. This was not a pain she could soothe, much as she would like to.

"I hate Shanks," Orchis mumbled a little later. "He took Uncle Beckman away."

"Uncle Beckman was Shanks' first mate before he was your uncle, poppet," Fox said calmly, kissing her daughter's tear-stained cheeks. "Don't hate either of them for it. I don't like being away from your Daddy either but some things must be."

"Daddy visits every month!" Orchis protested. "Uncle Beckman is _never_ coming back!"

That Orchis seemed so certain was cause for concern; a sense for the currents of fate –however vague it might be– was never a good thing and something else Fox couldn't help her baby girl to deal with. "I love you, my precious flower," she murmured, projecting soothing calm. "I'll always love you and so will Beckman, even if he can't come back. Shhh."

Orchis eventually cried herself to sleep in her mother's arms.

* * *

Fox did not comment when Luffy ran out of the house early the next morning, but followed a little while later with Blaze and Matsuri while Ace stayed behind to watch over the still-sleeping Orchis. They got to the docks in time to see Shanks' ship weigh anchor and set out, but most of Fox's attention was on the tears trickling down Luffy's face and the straw hat on his head.

"Mum?" the seven-year-old said quietly as she moved to stand beside him and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Yes, sweetie?"

Luffy looked up to meet her gaze, a fire burning in his reddened eyes. "I'm gonna be the Pirate King," he said flatly.

Fox inclined her head. "Luffy, I believe you can achieve anything you put your whole heart into," she said completely honestly. Her littlest son reached out to hug her leg.

"Thanks Mum."

* * *

Fox was in the kitchen when Garp's ship anchored a little way out from the village and he came ashore in a rowing boat. The Bulldog was much too large to anchor at the dock and anyway Garp preferred to keep his working and private life separate, so none of his men were allowed to have leave in Fuusha. Instead they would later sail down the coat to Goa City to restock and kick back before returning to the Grand Line, or wherever else Garp was required to go.

The pregnant blonde absently followed her adoptive father's progress through the village as she chopped vegetables and seared meat. Matsuri was much better than she had been –throwing bronze balls at Shanks had apparently been very therapeutic as had cursing him out with his crew laughing at his plight– and was currently busy teaching Orchis gymnastics outside. The twins had taken it upon themselves to help Luffy –who was wearing his new hat everywhere except to bed including in the bath– adjust to his new rubber body and were taking it in turns to spar with him while the other watched and occasionally asked the seven-year-old questions. Luffy was having terrible trouble gaining conscious control of his Ability and was inordinately grateful to his big brothers for their interest. Fox had given up teaching the younger boy haki for the time being; learning about his Ability was more important right now and there weren't enough hours in the day to do both. She was currently considering the wisdom of possibly letting Luffy roam free with the twins in spite of his ineptitude, as there was no teacher like necessity and the rubber boy had always learnt best under pressure.

Garp then burst into the house –thankfully through one of the easily replaced paper screen doors instead of a wall– to greet his grandsons and tell them what fine Marines they were going to be, which was all as usual except that Luffy instantly protested that he wasn't going to be a Marine, he was going to be the Pirate King, which the Vice-Admiral didn't take at all well.

Fox let the knife clatter to the worktop and dashed out of the kitchen towards the escalating shouting match and was just opening the door when Garp shouted "Fist of Love!" and the blonde saw red.

 _Nobody_ hit her children and got away with it!

* * *

Ace had known as soon as Garp burst through the sliding door that this was going to end badly. Shitty Gramps was always insisting they were going to be the strongest Marines in history when he visited and sparred with them, which the twins hadn't objected to because he was their Mum's Dad and kinda cool even if he was crazy and obsessed and Luffy hadn't objected to because back then Luffy still hadn't decided what he wanted to do when he grew up. Ace knew he wasn't going to be a Marine: his birth father being who he was meant he'd be watched like a hawk and Uncle Dragon's talk about politics and justice the previous autumn had completely disillusioned him where the World Government was concerned. The world was unfair, the Marines did some good stuff but they also enforced the unfairness and he couldn't endorse something like that and still be able to face himself when he looked in the mirror. So enlisting was right out. He was shitty at following orders anyway.

He knew enough about mechanics and engineering and found it interesting enough that he could make a decent living out of it if he wanted, building windmills, cranes, pumping systems and other more advanced stuff like fuel engines that Mum had given him books about when he'd expressed an interest back when he was eight. She'd even introduced him to the people who looked after Fuusha's various mills and persuaded them to let him look around. Ace liked building mechanical things; it gave him a sense of accomplishment. That even Orchis could use the layered pulley system he'd installed over the well to haul up water buckets was just awesome and made him feel useful. His Mum was amazing but he was helping her so she didn't have to work so hard all the time.

However he was unfortunately the biological son of an infamous pirate – _the_ infamous pirate–so it was vanishingly unlikely that he'd be allowed to get on with a quiet life and an honest career even if he wanted to, which he didn't really. He wanted to prove that he was strong enough that _nobody_ could stop him from doing _anything_ he wanted to do, with the possible exception of Blaze who at least explained why he didn't want Ace doing certain stuff and tried to come up with acceptable alternatives. To prove that Ace would have to become a pirate and get a bounty –a high one– as only then would he know for _sure_ that the Marines couldn't touch him in a fight. Or at least that he could successfully escape from them. Then, once he'd proved to everyone –and himself– that he could do whatever he wanted and nobody would stop him he was going to kick back, enjoy life and do some engineering on the side.

Right now however he was shouting at Garp who was shouting at Luffy for saying he was going to be Pirate King, his rubber-brained little brother was shouting back and it was pretty impossible to work out who was saying what but the tone spoke _volumes_ all by itself and Blaze had hurried out through the busted door to stop Orchis getting any closer and reassure Matsuri, who was having a panic attack. He and his twin had witnessed quite a few of these, so they knew how to calm her down.

Then Shitty Gramps raised a hand and shouted "Fist of Love!", and Ace's Colour of Observation warned him that the descending fist was on a collision course with Luffy's head. Luffy, whose haki awareness was abysmal and hadn't realised yet that being made of rubber didn't mean people couldn't hurt him. Unlike his little brother, Ace _had_ been listening when their Mum told them about the advantages of being able to use haki.

Ace lunged forwards, shoving his little brother down and using Reinforcement on his head just as the ballistic fist met his skull. He still saw stars. Then he felt his mother's fury explode and let gravity carry him to the floor on top of his startled little brother, a grin twitching in the corner of his mouth. Shitty Gramps was going to _suffer_ ; Mum had half-killed Shanks simply because he hadn't been looking out for Luffy and Orchis properly but the old man had just tried to _hit_ Luffy. The dumbass was going _down_ and though his head felt like a shipwright was hammering nails into it, the pain was so, so worth it.

* * *

Vice-Admiral Monkey D. Garp loved all his children and grandchildren very much. It was in his nature: he was a straightforward and very direct person and his family was dearer to his heart than anything else, even his career. He'd adopted Fox because he could tell she was a good girl in spite of being a trained killer and she'd proved him right, settling down in Fuusha to care for her boys and later little Luffy after his daughter-in-law died giving birth. She'd even given him a granddaughter to dote on! Dragon was his son by blood and had been a terrible trial to him growing up as they'd fought about all kinds of things. His son running off after his wife died and founding a revolutionary movement had hurt terribly, but he didn't love Dragon any less for it. In fact he was quietly proud of his son's strength and ingenuity.

Then there were his grandkids and son-in-law. Garp suspected his son-in-law worked for Cipher Pol or Marine Intelligence, as the boy showed up in Headquarters at irregular intervals and in a variety of uniforms to stop by his office for tea, often bringing rice crackers or occasionally doughnuts. However there was nothing on record about Spadille anywhere that Garp could access without drawing attention to himself, so the Vice-Admiral let it be. After all with his daughter having the skill-set she did, her husband being in one of the World Government's covert forces was not all that surprising, although that still didn't explain where Roger had found her or how he had persuaded her to watch over his lover. The man his daughter was married to was strong, sharp and had more sense of humour than most covert types, which Garp liked. Spadille was a good sort.

Garp was almost more proud of his grandkids than he was of his children. He had pictures on his office wall drawn by them, such as the one showing him tossing cannonballs at the Oro Jackson, he eagerly awaited the regular letters Fox sent telling him about what they were getting up to and how their training was going –they were going to make such fine Marines! – and cheerfully talked both his subordinates' and Sengoku's ears off about his marvellous grandchildren. The twins were proficient with haki already! Orchis-chan had been reading by herself before she was five! Luffy wanted to know everything about all the islands in the world! He couldn't visit much due to chasing pirates up and down the Grand Line but he didn't feel guilty about it: he was making the world a safer place for his family and Fox was more than capable of caring for the children herself. They would all become magnificent Marines, even little Orchis!

When he'd got the letter from his daughter telling him she was pregnant again he'd immediately demanded leave to visit her so he could extend his congratulations in person. Fox adored all her babies equally but Garp knew she'd wanted more children for a while now and was delighted for her. Unfortunately on arriving home he discovered that Fox had not shared _everything_ that had been going on lately: Luffy had somehow got his hands on a Devil Fruit and was determined to be a pirate. Not just a pirate either: the seven-year-old wanted to follow in Roger's footsteps! He couldn't let it happen: he was a Marine and if Luffy became a pirate he would have to hunt him down and throw him in Impel Down. Or worse, see him executed! He wouldn't be able to bear it! Luffy had to understand that his Grandpa was doing this for his own good!

"Fist of Love!" he bellowed, bringing a fist down on Luffy's head. Or at least _would_ have brought it down on Luffy's head, except Ace had got in the way. The larger boy crashed to the floor on top of his little brother, a large bump swelling on the top of his skull just as Garp realised that Fox was standing behind him and radiating killing intent. He turned to explain his concerns when his Observation haki warned him just slightly too late and something small but very hard ploughed into his jaw and launched him back outside through the screen door. He felt the bone break from the force of the impact and ploughed through two trees before he hit one that didn't crumple and slid to the ground, fingering his jaw carefully. Yep, broken jaw. He hadn't had one of those since that fight with Roger that time. Which reminded him where he'd seen his grandson's new hat before: it was Shanks' hat, which the redhead had been given by Roger back when he was a brat. This meant Red-Hair had been _here_ , in Fuusha, and Fox hadn't bothered to call him to come and get rid of the pirate!

Ow. His jaw hurt.

Garp dusted himself off and strode back towards the house. Fox had probably hit him because he'd hit Ace for no clear reason but he was sure that once he'd explained his reasoning to her she'd be okay with him persuading Luffy to give up his dreams of piracy. Ace had gotten in the way on purpose so his injury was his own fault, though the ten-year-old's Armament haki was coming along very nicely indeed. There were Captains four times the boy's age out there who couldn't do that much!

He stepped into the yard and stopped dead. Fox was waiting for him. Not his wonderful, beautiful daughter who wrote him letters, sent him pictures his grandchildren had drawn and cooked the best donuts he'd ever tasted, but the cold-eyed killer he remembered from Baterilla. She was standing between him and the house, a katana in one hand and a wakizashi in the other, her braids curled around on the ground like insect antenna in a wide 'v' shape in front of her. Behind her Garp could see the shy girl his son-in-law had brought back from who-knows-where applying an icepack to the bump on Ace's head while Blaze made sure the younger two stayed behind him, the redhead's face set.

Seeing that expression on Blaze's face rang a bell somewhere in the back of Garp's mind. He ignored it though; it wasn't important. What mattered right now was that his beloved daughter was treating him like a threat. But why? He just wanted what was best for his grandsons! He opened his mouth to address her but his jaw twinged and he stopped. Ah. Problem. Pain. Ow!

"Vice-Admiral Monkey D. Garp," his daughter said, her tone as cold as a Winter Island blizzard, "if you _ever_ raise a violent hand to _any_ of my children outside of a spar again I will leave your home forever and you will not see your grandchildren again unless they are fully grown and choose to approach you themselves. You know I am capable of hiding us so that no Marine will ever find us, so do not push me. Do you understand me?"

Garp nodded reluctantly. He understood. It wasn't right though! Luffy was going to ruin his own life with his foolishness!

"Calm, please," Fox said shortly, raising her katana slightly and bringing to the Vice-Admiral's notice the faint sheen of Seastone that both her swords had. Garp hadn't even known it was _possible_ to make swords out of Seastone. Those blades had to be worth a fortune! And very sharp, he amended as sunlight caught the edges.

"I'm sure you remember what I told you when you first offered to adopt me and my boys," his daughter went on. "I told you I would support my sons' dreams, no matter what they might be. I believe there is no greater crime than to steal a man's dreams away, because to lose a dream is to lose who you _are_. How would you have felt, Monkey D. Garp, if your father had forbidden you to be a Marine?

What a ridiculous idea! His old man would never have stopped him from being a Marine; he'd been proud of Garp for wanting to do something worthwhile with his life! Garp had never wanted to be anything else!

Fox sighed. "Either you accept that the only way I will allow you to sway my children is through words or we will go away. If you pick the latter we will be gone within the week; I'll not force you to tolerate us in your home against your will."

Garp panicked, waving his hands desperately. He didn't want his daughter to take his grandkids away! He loved them! Even if Luffy was ruining his life with dangerous and destructive ideas!

"So we can stay?"

Garp nodded fervently, then winced and clutched his swelling jaw. Ow. It'd been years since he'd had a serious injury like this! He felt very proud of his daughter for managing it.

Fox sheathed her swords and her hair lifted itself to drape back over the hair sticks threaded across the back of her head. "I hit you with the kashira of my katana tsuka as I drew it from the saya," she said dryly, stepping closer and reaching out a hand to touch the injury. "If you weren't so durable your jaw would have shattered." Garp caught a glimpse of a pale glow and the pain receded.

The kashira was the cap on the end of a katana hilt under the wrapping. Fox was clearly a speed swordswoman, so the rapidity of the draw compounded with her skill with haki and not insignificant strength had combined with the small size of the pommel to concentrate the force of the blow into a point. It was a move that could break a lesser man's neck on impact; Garp had seen it happen.

"There," Fox said eventually. "Now accompany me to the kitchen please and explain _why_ you thought it was a good idea to hit my _son_."

Garp followed her, slightly abashed. He hadn't considered that she might react so strongly to him trying to toughen the boys up and educate them a bit, but remembering what little she'd told him about her own training maybe he should have. But he wasn't like the people who'd raised her! He loved his grandsons!

* * *

Fox flopped face down on the futon set out in the main room and focused on just breathing. Garp had stayed a week, a week full of loud arguments, bluster, confusion and frustration. Fox had lost her temper three times, burst into tears seven times –damn hormones– and hit Garp at least once a day for frightening Matsuri. Not that the Vice-Admiral did it on purpose, but he was big, loud and very physical which terrified the dancing girl beyond words. To be fair Garp found her fear even more upsetting than the children did and always apologised profusely, but he had still had trouble remembering to moderate his behaviour to allow for her nerves. Garp and moderation were not remotely compatible as a general rule.

The week might have been a total disaster, what with Luffy declaring he was going to be the King of the Pirates every time her old man started talking about the Marines and hiking the tension, but Ace and Blaze made a point of getting him to shut up and asked the Vice-Admiral questions about the ranking system, how orders worked and what kind of missions Marines got at different levels. Garp answered the question when he could –it turned out he didn't know as much as he might about how the organisation worked or had forgotten it– and dismissed the issue otherwise, but Fox saw her twins exchanging glances and knew they were able to read between the lines. Her boys weren't stupid.

Unlike Luffy, the twins did not refute Garp's assumption that they were going to be Marines, though Ace mentioned he wanted to be allowed to get more machines to take apart and parts to build new things. Garp did not dismiss this interest in how things worked but he didn't encourage it either; he clearly thought engineering and mechanics were a waste of Ace's talents. Fox didn't; there was more to life than fighting and she fully intended for _all_ her children to be capable enough in at least one thing to be able to make a living that didn't involve beating people up. An honest living if at all possible, but not necessarily: legality was a tricky business in the world they lived in. Some things were only legal in some places, others were only illegal on specific islands and a good number of things were technically illegal but the local and world government turned a blind eye to them anyway.

The week would have been much more difficult had Orchis not been a perfect angel. She'd monopolised her Grandpa, asked questions, demanded stories about his colleagues and made him do things with her. Garp had been so charmed by his 'wonderful granddaughter' that he had not seen since she had been three and shyly nonverbal that he was wrapped around her finger by the end of the second day. Orchis did not object to her Grandpa telling her what a wonderful Marine she'd make, but her silence was somehow more compliant than the twins' was, possibly because her baby girl hadn't yet decided what she wanted to do with her life.

Well Garp was gone now and Fox had decided that the best thing for Luffy right now was to be allowed to run wild, so she'd given him permission to wander in the woods with his older brothers and quietly asked the twins to at least keep an eye on him even if they didn't want him joining in with whatever they were doing. All three boys had accepted that, though Ace was grumpy that Luffy had been allowed out while still so bad with haki, and they had been away all day every day for the past five days, only returning to sleep and eat morning and evening meals. Orchis took advantage of the increase in available attention to get ahead in her studies and learn more gymnastics from Matsuri. However as she grew Fox could see her baby girl didn't really have the build or attitude for a strictly acrobatic combat style: Orchis was going to be as sturdy as her father when she was grown, was already showing signs of being just as bull-headed and was in fact about two thirds as strong as Ace had been aged five though far more graceful. Fox had therefore started teaching her a hard style with a lot of kicks and punches to complement her flexibility training. Orchis loved it: even though she had barely started on stances and simple punches she worked herself into the ground every day.

Fox however was starting to feel her pregnancy slowing her down and knew she'd start showing in another few weeks. Already her stomach was firmer and more rounded and she was putting on extra weight on her thighs, abdomen and chest. It wasn't affecting her fighting ability detrimentally yet, but she would have to adjust her combat style to account for the lower centre of balance and slight decrease in mobility.

Then there was the matter of her actually expecting _five_ babies. Two had been a given; what with how Marco affected her body due to their respective Devil Fruits him getting her pregnant with more than one child had been expected. Triplets would have been unusual but not too far outside the norm. Quads… well, that's what she'd _thought_ she was expecting, but one of the eggs had split shortly after implantation and so she was going to be giving birth to quintuplets sometime around Ace's actual birthday. Orchis was thrilled, the twins were slightly intimidated as they knew what to expect from Orchis infancy and could picture how chaotic multiplying that by five would get and Luffy simply accepted it. Kajin was happy for her but sorely tempted to go bash Marco over the head for knocking her up so _very_ thoroughly then not being prepared to deal with the consequences. Which was why he was avoiding the Moby Dick altogether and focusing his attentions on getting his crew up to standard for his planned campaign.

The information network was running smoothly now and between them they were gradually getting everything they'd need for her husband's upcoming assault on the Grand Line and intended overthrow of either Big Mom or Kaido. Spadille was tempted to target Kaido just to make it easier take out Doflamingo who was steadily building his reputation on the Grand Line but hadn't made it to Shichibukai just yet, but the information suggested taking out Big Mom would be more efficient and make it easier to carry out their long-term plans. Besides, it wasn't like her Kajin intended to run the territory himself: that was her job. She'd have to do it through him but it would still be her making most of the decisions. If only her Asura were here…

Sighing, Fox let her mind drift and then noticed that contrary to what she had _thought_ he was doing, her husband was actually in Paradise scoping out Shanks' ship from the cover of Renaisse Island. She hadn't expected him to actually go through with her conditional suggestion, but he apparently had a plan. God help them all. Groaning, Fox levered herself off the futon and went to warn Matsuri that she might well not be around for a day. The problem was her Kajin's plans was not that they didn't work –because they invariably _did_ – but that they were frequently confusing, distressing and downright _unforgettable_ for the unsuspecting souls who got snared by them, herself included.

* * *

Shanks stood on the main deck of his ship, hands shoved in his pockets and a cheery smile on his face. Not having a hat for the first time in well over a decade took a bit of getting used to but he didn't mind in the slightest; Luffy would do that hat proud, he was sure of it. Plus, he had a son! A strong, smart, caring boy who looked a lot like him and cared about his family just as strongly as Shanks himself had always treasured his friends. Though the Yonko had to admit that Blaze had lucked out as far as families went: Fox was easy to love and her other kids were all going to be just as interesting to watch as Luffy. No doubt they'd all leave their mark on the world once they were old enough to leave home.

Having left East Blue for good, Shanks had finally allowed himself to properly examine his feelings for Fox and concluded that he loved her. Not in the single-minded and romantic way that Yassop loved his wife Banchina, the charming woman who'd packed his things for him and encouraged the sniper to live his dream, but certainly as a dear and precious friend. She had given him so much he couldn't help but admire her and he had made an effort to get to know her better during the year he'd hung around Fuusha village. It hadn't been easy: Fox hid herself away from scrutiny with habitual ease and while she was usually very honest in answering questions, what she actually _said_ rarely meant what you thought it did. That was generally deliberate, Shanks suspected; whatever Fox had done before she married, it had involved a lot of secrecy from a very early age and probably comparable levels of violence. Not that he cared other than worrying about how it still affected her. After all, who was he to judge? He'd been a pirate ever since he was eleven and hadn't exactly been a model of virtue before then. Roger had only brought him on board as an apprentice because the Oro Jackson held better prospects than what he'd left behind. Well, other than the sake of course. Nowhere did sake as good as the stuff from his home island.

Fox was also beautiful, which made platonic friendship an impossible feat as he couldn't help lusting after her. If she had been an aloof, distant beauty he might have managed, but Fox was warm, generous, playful and forgiving yet tinged with a persistent hint of melancholy that made him ache to hold her close until it went away. It would have been so easy to talk her into sleeping with him by playing on that deep-seated sorrow: it had been painfully obvious back when he first met her and the hurt still lingered within her all these years later. He hadn't done it though. She was married and he'd already upset her marriage enough as it was. He still wasn't sure whether or not Beckman had succumbed to the temptation she posed, but he had his suspicions and looking back it seemed increasingly likely. Which was deeply strange; he and Beckman had distinctly different tastes in women. His first mate's persistent deflection of Shanks's leading questions concerning the nature of the older man's relationship with the startlingly powerful blonde told a story all by itself.

Shanks heard a gentle thud behind him, like someone jumping the last half-dozen rungs of the rigging to land on the deck. Except that the person behind him was not a part of his crew. Turning around with his cheerful smile still firmly in place, Shanks paused to contemplate his guest. He was tall, probably about six inches taller than Beckman and considerably broader through the shoulders. He also had longish blue hair tied back at the nape of his neck, amber eyes and freckles. He wore loose black trousers tucked into sturdy black boots, two belts draped around his hips and a third running diagonally across his chest, a top hat on his head and a long spear slung across his back, probably attached to the third belt. He also had a tattoo on the upper part of each arm, just below the shoulder. Shanks couldn't see the details of the designs but they were definitely different to each-other.

The stranger also had presence: solid, deceptively still and rather threatening presence. Nothing as crass as projecting Haoshoku haki but he was very definitely a dangerous man for all Shanks had neither seen nor heard of him before.

The Yonko widened his grin and waved a hand. "Hello there!" He said cheerfully. "Who might you be?"

The stranger's eyebrow arched and he folded his arms across his chest. "I'm Spadille," he rumbled, the sense of ominous threat radiating from him increasing a hundred-fold, "and _you_ are the man who got my wife pregnant, Red-Hair Shanks."

Around Shanks most of his crew choked, gaped or fumbled what they were doing. Maybe he should have told them about Blaze earlier; it seemed there'd been a misunderstanding about exactly _which_ pregnancy the man meant. However right now it appeared his worst fears were about to be realised and Fox's husband really _was_ angry with him about taking advantage of her back when she was fifteen and in mourning over her husband's supposed death. He wasn't quite sure what to say however.

"Er, yes?" he managed. Which was rather pathetic really but what else was he supposed to say that wouldn't be digging himself into a bigger hole? That he hadn't meant to or expected it to happen? That wouldn't go down well at all.

The aura of threat faded away like dawn mist as Spadille's shoulders sagged slightly and he pouted. "Fox was right," the massive man said petulantly. "You _are_ gorgeous. I should have tried to be in Fuusha when you were and had Fox talk you into a threesome." He smirked and gave the Yonko a very blatant and appreciative once-over. "Yep; _definitely_ should have made more of an effort."

Shanks' jaw dropped slightly and his eyes bulged; behind him half his crew collapsed to the deck in shock. This was Fox's husband?! The hell?!

* * *

Spadille smirked as Shanks tried to collect himself. This could go two ways: Shanks could laugh his comment off and get his balance back or he'd start asking questions. The Logia had plans for both and was fairly certain he'd manage to get the Yonko to look at him the right way for long enough to get him into his cabin and summon Fox. Shanks was very definitely heterosexual, far more than Marco or even Thatch, whose fetish for curves was rather infamous among his brothers. The redhead was also very powerful, so manipulating him with haki wouldn't work. That he'd even contemplated that probably said not very nice things about him, but Spadille recognised he wasn't a very nice person and it wasn't like he intended to take total advantage of Shanks by himself: he just needed to get the man somewhere private and have him be reasonably willing and then his sexy Kitsune would show up and steal the rest of the redhead's inhibitions. His darling wife was currently flopped across her bed in Fuusha wearing a sheer, lacy peignoir and nothing else; Shanks' morals wouldn't last five seconds after seeing her in _that_.

Shanks didn't seem to be recovering as required, so Spadille went on talking:

"I don't actually mind about Blaze, you know: he's a good kid and her having someone to look after probably saved everyone a whole load of trouble as she gets reckless without personal connections. He's a cute kid too; the ladies will be swooning after him in a few years if you are any indication. Though Blaze certainly inherited his mother's brains," the blue-haired logia deadpanned, "as you seem a little slow. Cute, but slow. Maybe that's what she sees in you; she's certainly very fond of Luffy and he's as thick as two short planks. I'd think he was dropped on his head as a child except I know he most certainly wasn't. It's inherited, sadly: just look at Garp. Poor Luffy never had a chance." He paused. Nope, still not recovered yet. "Actually, cute has never been enough for Precious to consider intimacy. She has ridiculously high standards for her lovers and I know she doesn't usually compromise unless the sex is really, _really_ good, which leads me to seriously wonder how exactly you are managing to keep order on your ship if you can't match her usual standards for intelligence." Spadille let his gaze flicker over to Benn Beckman, who was grinning a little more widely than usual and not offering his captain a single iota of assistance. "Well, I suppose your first mate _is_ rather easy on the eyes if not exactly my usual type-"

"Stop." Ooh, _that_ got a response from the redhead. Finally! Spadille stopped.

"Yes?" he said sweetly, fluttering his eyelashes as a further third of the crew dropped to the deck, clutching their heads and looking queasy.

Shanks stared at him for a long moment, face unreadable, then threw his head back and roared with laughter. "Dahahahahaha! You're outrageous, you know that Spadille?"

The Logia grinned. "Yup. Fox thinks it's hilarious. Sometimes she even joins in."

Shanks went on laughing, clutching his stomach as he shook and whooped. Spadille watched, eyes crinkling up in the corners and smirking mischievously. The redhead likely thought the flirting had all been a tease, which meant his guard would be down for later. Spadille had no problem with that at all. Or with taking advantage of Shanks' lowered guard, come to that. It came from being a pirate since fair play was not remotely necessary to the profession.

"So, you happened to be in the area and thought you'd stop by and introduce yourself?" Shanks asked once he'd got his chuckling back under control.

"Nope, I was looking for you," Spadille corrected, meeting the Yonko's eye with a challenging grin. "Spar with me." He reached over his shoulder, drew his yari and twirled it in his hands. "Fox says you're good but I want to experience it for myself." Behind the redhead two more of his crew were felled by the innuendo. Wimps. He could do far worse than that. Of course it might have been accumulated trauma that had taken them out.

Shanks smiled. "Why not?" he said cheerfully, reaching for his sword hilt. "Clear the main deck!"

Unfortunately, what with all the gratuitous trauma Spadille had inflicted on the Red-Hair Pirates, clearing the deck took rather longer than it should have as those of the crew who were still mostly functional had to remove the unresponsive bodies of their peers. The Logia took advantage to shrug a long package off his back and toss it at Beckman.

"Oi! Catch!"

The first mate snatched the long parcel out of the air then paused, glancing at Spadille curiously.

"It's a thank-you for caring for my wife while I wasn't there," the blue-haired man said easily. "She needs a lot of looking after."

Beckman hefted the package and shrugged. "You are very welcome," he said evenly, following the last of the crew up the stairs to the poop deck and sitting down on the top step, the present across his knees.

However now the deck was clear the fight was on, so Spadille turned his attention back to Shanks and refined his focus. The Shanks he'd fought back home had only had one arm and wielded his sword in his right hand, but this Shanks had both arms and held his sabre in his left. Having both arms affected balance and still having his dominant hand would mean the redhead would be both quicker and more assured in his movements. Shanks was no Zoro, but it would still be a damn good fight. Spadille grinned.

"When you're ready, captain."

* * *

To be perfectly honest, Shanks had not been expecting all that much from Spadille. He could tell the large man was strong and he certainly had a lethal sense of humour, but Shanks was good and he knew it. He was good enough that Hawk-Eyes, who was hailed as the world's greatest swordsman, hunted him down every year for a week-long spar. That meant that the redhead was –according to Mihawk at least– the world's second-greatest swordsman. Spadille wasn't a swordsman at all, but polearms weren't all that good against swords on a field as limited as the deck of his ship unless you were throwing haki around, which they wouldn't be because damaging the ship was a no-no. This was after all a spar not a fight. He was therefore pleasantly surprised when Spadille deflected his initial attack and nearly took his head off. Grinning at the prospect of a proper challenge, Shanks set about fighting in earnest.

An indeterminate amount of time later Shanks decided that Spadille had a great deal of practice fighting sword users –possibly courtesy of Fox; why didn't he consider that earlier? – and that Hawk-Eyes would probably enjoy sparring against Spadille almost as much as he would against Fox. Fox was fast; Spadille was _strong_. He also knew his limits precisely and never overextended himself. The redhead hadn't had this much fun in ages. They were almost at a stalemate, but not quite. Shanks pushed himself harder, his grin wide as he ducked around the larger man and narrowly missed being brained by the butt of the spear. Oh yes, this was fun!

He then realised that Spadille was occasionally wielding his yari like a naginata, a feat only possible because the blue-haired man was two foot taller than average. Naginata were highly effective against swords so long as there was enough room to wield them freely, which on a ship's deck there was. Shanks chuckled and adjusted his tactics accordingly.

As the fight dragged on, Shanks had to keep on catching himself as his mind seemed bound and determined to wander into the gutter for no plausible reason. First he was distracted by the way the corners of his opponent's eyes crinkled when he grinned, then the way his abdominal muscles flexed as he panted, then how the tip of his tongue darted out to moisten his lips, then by the way sweat beaded on his pectorals… it went on and on, the redhead fixating on all kinds of throwaway details that usually passed without much note. That his libido appeared to be behind his increasing distraction confused him even more: he'd never been attracted to men before. Okay, there had been that _one_ guy but he'd been a special case. He'd also been nothing like Spadille, who was tall, massive and muscle-bound. Yet what he found himself wanting to do with ever-increasing intensity was grab the blue-haired man by the hair and drag him into his cabin, strip him naked, run his hands all over that powerfully muscled body and make him beg and scream.

Shanks stumbled slightly as that particular fantasy seared itself across his mind's eye, his sword was knocked from his grasp and he was thrown to the deck by the butt of Spadille's spear.

"You seem distracted," his opponent's deep, rumbling voice teased him gently, one eyebrow raised. Shanks couldn't quite understand the ever-rising urge to touch the man but he knew that he wasn't going to be able to resist much longer. Was this some obscure Ability? He managed to grin.

"Just a little," he confessed.

Spadille really looked at him, that thoughtful gaze more of a turn-on than it should have been. What was wrong with him today?! "You know," the blue haired man said huskily, "I really like how you're looking at me right now, Red-Hair Shanks. Maybe we should take ourselves somewhere less public and you can look all you want. And touch all you want as well."

Shanks felt something inside him snap at the invitation to fulfil the fantasies playing through his mind. He shot up from the deck and launched himself at Spadille, yanking on the man's hair to pull his face down into a kiss and by all the Blues, could the man kiss! Shanks growled hungrily and reciprocated with enthusiasm as an arm caught him around the waist and his feet left the ground.

"Cabin," Spadille grunted shortly as they parted gasping for air.

Shanks tipped his head towards a door under the poopdeck. "There," he growled before attacking Spadille's mouth again, one hand running through the bluet's hair while the other explored the way the large man's biceps bulged and flexed. He barely noticed Spadille dash across the deck until the door slammed behind them and he realised he had the confusingly enticing man _in his cabin_.

"Why are you so bloody irresistible?" Shanks groaned, his entire body shuddering with pure, unadulterated lust as Spadille set his feet back on the floor. The massive man chuckled, his voice enticingly deep.

"I just wanted you to see me," Spadille murmured huskily in the redhead's ear as he tossed his top hat aside and started on the buttons of Shanks' shirt, "because Fox promised me we could have a threesome if you accepted my advances."

Shanks' hands shot out and clutched Spadille's arms as his knees gave out at the idea of having Fox _and_ Spadille in his bed. "You're trying to kill me," he joked breathlessly. Spadille's grin in response to that accusation destroyed what was left of his perception of –and interest in maintaining– his sexual orientation as well as his rational mind. The redhead was now torn between having his way with the man in front of him and letting Spadille have _his_ way with _him_. Then suddenly Fox was standing between them wearing nothing but a translucent lacy garment held closed by three small buttons over her chest and Shanks made a snap decision: He would have his way with Fox first and _then_ decide what to do about her incredibly confusing husband. The way she gasped as he pounced on her and kissed her heatedly told him he wasn't the only person nursing a lingering attraction. It was all the encouragement he needed.

* * *

Shanks drifted slowly into wakefulness feeling warm, sore and languid in a way he hadn't experienced for quite some time. He'd never had any shortage of women throwing themselves at him, but there was a very significant difference between a brief passionate encounter and a night-long orgy, which was what it felt like he'd passed out after. _Everything_ seemed to ache, though in the best way possible. Where was he anyway?

Judging by the feel of the mattress, the distant washing of waves and the creak of rigging he was in his cabin on his own ship, but with company. The air smelled of sweat, sex, heat and seawater and he could feel a woman's body pressed up against his chest, her legs tangled around his and her breath gently tickling the base of his throat. There was someone behind him too, the redhead slowly realised: someone very warm and solid who had an arm wrapped around both him and the woman he had already identified. So, how had this happened and what exactly _had_ happened? He opened his eyes and the growing dawn light revealed familiar long blonde braids draped across the pillow, over the edge of the bed and coiling across the cabin floor. Shanks blinked. That was Fox's hair; he'd recognise it anywhere. He was in bed with Fox, stark naked, pleasantly sore and slightly sticky.

Oops.

How had she got here anyway? He'd left East Blue a month ago!

The person behind him sighed in their sleep, their arm tightening around Shanks and Fox and pulling both of them closer, informing the redhead that the other person in bed with him was male. Male and large, if the arm was anything to go by. He didn't go for men as a rule, which begged the question of why on earth this guy was here and if Fox knew him. There was another sleepy rumble from behind the redhead and the mattress shifted under them, rolling Shanks onto his back as the larger man moved in his sleep and sprawling Fox on top of him. The redhead tensed as her thighs parted over his lap and his morning wood pressed firmly against her lower stomach, the other man's arm weighing down across the small of her back as his hand tangled in blonde braids and his face nuzzled against Shanks' shoulder. The Yonko could see him now: he was massive, well-muscled, had blue hair and an ace of spades tattooed on his left shoulder with the letter 'S' inside the design.

Spadille.

Shanks' eyes widened as his memory finally came back on line and filled him in on everything he'd temporarily forgotten in a rush of images, phantom sensations and remembered words. He'd jumped Fox's husband up on deck, been carried into his cabin and then Fox had shown up somehow and he'd fallen on her like a ravening wolf. Pink lightly tinged the redhead's face and his eyes glazed over as he recalled how eagerly and vocally she'd responded to his frenzied assault on her flesh as Spadille's hands had wandered liberally over both of them and the larger man had supplied the redhead with a stream of suggestions and comments in between kissing and nibbling at Shanks' throat and upper back. And that had just been the beginning of the evening; things had gone downhill from there and he'd enjoyed every moment of it immensely. Just thinking about it was making his blood race and his heart pound.

Fox shifted on top of him, dragging a gasp from his lips as her hips bucked into his. Then her breathing changed and she shifted again, this time more purposefully. Shanks' eyelids fluttered as she settled herself more solidly over his lap and propped herself up with her forearms flat across his chest.

"Good morning," she said with a coy smile, her eyes dark and full of mischief as she deliberately pressed the damp, intimate tissues between her thighs against the base of his erection and twitched her hips invitingly. Shanks's breath hitched in his throat as the tantalising sensations evoked below the waist slammed into his mind at the same time as the fabulous view of taunt, rounded breasts faintly marked here and there from the previous night's activities. Fox looked mussed, languid and thoroughly ravished, the usual sorrow lurking behind her eyes completely absent as she licked her lips anticipatorily.

"Oh, it's a very good morning," he replied breathlessly, eyes darting between her face and her chest as he slid one arm out from under the pillow so he could prop himself up a bit. His other hand gripped her leg a little more tightly, his fingers teasing the sensitive skin on the inside of her thigh. It was odd doing this with somebody else asleep next to them but to be honest if Spadille was awake he'd probably either watch or join in and right now Shanks didn't think his battered mind could take either. He really still had no clue how he felt about what had happened: last night had been so far outside his usual experiences that it felt like he had been stuck in a surreal fever dream. Fox just by herself was fantastic in bed but Fox and Spadille together became an insatiable four-armed sex fiend with a slightly schizoid personality. No wonder he was sore.

Fox squirmed happily on top of him as his hand slid up her thigh to squeeze her bottom, the friction speeding his pulse. He chuckled darkly as she bit her lip, her chest bouncing gently as he slipped his fingers around underneath her to explore more sensitive areas and he leaned forward to suck on one of those temptingly swollen nipples, nipping gently with his teeth. Fox moaned shamelessly in response to his ministrations then cried out as his fingers found the small, sensitive nub hidden at the top of her outer folds and began toying with it. She writhed on top of him, her arms slipping sideways so she could brace herself more firmly against the bed as he coaxed gasps and breathless whimpers from her throat and set her whole body shuddering.

Every buck of Fox's hips ground her against him and Spadille's arm across her back pinning her down made it impossible for her to gain any kind of control over the situation, which Shanks was rather enjoying. He hadn't had all that much control at all last night: something about Fox had consumed his attention to the point that he hadn't objected to any of the things that Spadille had been doing to them both, some of which were now sitting strangely in his mind. No actual intercourse with the other man –small mercies– but no shortage of just about everything else. His memories were also slightly disjointed, with bits of things slightly out of place with others or not in the right order and some fragments that felt like they weren't actually his but had been picked up elsewhere, which could happen with Kenbunshoku but Shanks hadn't had the presence of mind to use haki last night. Then Spadille's weight shifted again, his arm slid off them and Fox dragged herself up his body in a way that had his spine bowing and his mouth slipping from her chest to cry out. Her moist folds slid over the head of his erection and she twitched, chest heaving as he quickly reached down to guide his body into hers then gripped her thigh to push her down on top of him so she was straddling him again, this time sitting upright.

Shanks took a moment to catch his breath and admire the view: the blonde's spine was slightly arched, her stomach muscles quivering, her breasts bobbing with every gasping breath she took and a glorious rosy blush was painted across her face and upper chest. Lying back on the pillow he gripped her hips in both hands and bucked upwards into her, ripping a cry from her throat as her hands gripped his wrists convulsively and her entire body shuddered. Shanks pulled back, lifting her off him until he was supporting most of her weight with his arms then let her drop back on top of him as he bucked upwards again. Her involuntary scream told him he'd managed to hit _just_ the right spot so he steadied his breathing and continued his actions in earnest, driving himself into Fox again and again as she caught the rhythm and started moving with him. At which point he stopped worrying about what on earth had happened the night before and set about discovering how many different ways he could make her scream.

* * *

As Fox collapsed across his chest, panting, shivering and slightly dazed as her inner walls shuddered convulsively around his spent member, Shanks heard a husky masculine chuckle in his ear:

"Now _there's_ a wakeup call to get anyone's blood pumping."

Shanks was floating in a post-coital haze but those words made him twitch and glance sideways to meet dark, wicked amber eyes and a broad, appreciative smirk with a slightly crocodilian edge. Seeing that face did not inspire in him the wild, all-consuming hunger it had the previous afternoon but he was still experiencing definite lustful attraction. Said lustful attraction was tangled up in certain sections of the previous night's activities which had been preceded by a very _specific_ hungry smirk and had invariably ended with the redhead bellowing in helpless ecstasy. Shanks swallowed hard. Okay, so he was genuinely physically attracted to Fox's husband. He really needed his head examined, possibly with a hammer or the butt of Beckman's rifle.

Spadille could clearly read him like a book –probably because he was feeling totally lost right now and so his usual control was shot– and smirked teasingly, leaned closer and kissed Shanks right on the mouth. Then he kissed Fox, which involved much more tongue.

"Are you going to treat me like you did Shanks, Precious, or do I have to take steps?" the large man asked with a mischievous gleam in his eye.

Fox smiled sweetly. "You aren't Shanks, Kajin. You want me, you come and get me."

Spadille moved _very_ quickly: one minute he was sprawled next to them, the next he was crouching over them and lifting Fox off Shanks. "You, my sexy little Kitsune," he purred, "are a tease: a wicked, flirtatious little temptress who only wears clothing because I ask you nicely not to force me to kill the people around you for staring at your delectable body." He started dotting kisses down her neck as one hand groped her breast and the other cradled her abdomen, holding her back flush against his chest and incidentally giving Shanks a clear view of _everything_ he was doing. The redhead didn't move or even try to look away; there was no point. Shanks had discovered that Spadille liked an audience in the bedroom just as much as he liked _being_ the audience and trying not to look just encouraged him to be more outrageous. Or actually physically ensure that you _couldn't_ ignore what he was doing to his wife. Shanks now knew this from personal experience, disjointed though his memories of the previous evening were.

That particular memory made Shanks shiver, partly because he'd very much enjoyed it at the time but mostly because in retrospect he couldn't _believe_ the man had _done_ that. He really was going to need his head examining later, if he could even find somebody who could be trusted to keep the story to themselves, like maybe Beckman. His first mate was such a wonderful man. Shanks dragged himself up into a sitting position as in front of him Spadille went on molesting his wife and coaxing a variety of appreciative and eager noises from her throat. He was going to be scarred for life by this, he just knew it. But hey, there were worse things.

* * *

Beckman sat calmly on a barrel lashed to the deck near the mainmast as the morning sun slowly rose higher in the sky, ignoring the muffled but unmistakeable sounds coming from his captain's cabin in favour of examining the gift Spadille had given him. It was a rifle, a very well-made and sturdy one that fired bullets of a larger calibre than his current gun. The stock was larger and better shaped that his current one, with elaborate metal designs twining up from the butt to the firing mechanism. The mechanism itself was also sturdy but in no way clumsy or slow: in fact it had a hair trigger once it was cocked. It was simply hard to damage and very well-made, much, much better than any rifle he'd ever seen before. It was also a breech-loader, which was a very nice change and much easier to work with. The reason he'd started using his rifle like a club in the first place was that in ship-to-ship action there really wasn't time to reload a rifle after firing your first shot. This rifle would be much quicker to reload; he'd have to get back in the habit of carrying powder and shot, or possibly buy some of the new cartridges that were becoming popular.

The gun barrel was very well-made too: sturdy, precisely grooved on the inside and reinforced with rings on the outside to reduce the chances of it getting damaged, a risk particularly in close quarters combat, resulting in the weapon becoming impossible to fire. Beckman also suspected the stock was made of Adam Wood as it didn't have any give in it at all and was heavier than it should have been had it been made with the usual oak. If it was, that bumped the rifle up from just an expensive gift into a priceless one: Adam Wood was ridiculously costly and nobody with any sense would ever use it to make a gun stock of all things. The stock likely cost more than the rest of the gun put together!

All in all it suggested that the weapon was a custom piece, which was puzzling. Fox's husband had gone to a lot of trouble to order made a custom rifle for him, apparently as a thank-you for 'taking care' of the blonde over the past year. Yes, Fox had made it clear that she and her husband had an understanding when it came to having extra-marital affairs, but what kind of man gave his wife's lover a gift –any gift, let alone one this expensive– to _thank_ them for carrying on with her in his absence?

Then again, the past day had proved that Spadille was rather _unique_ so it probably made perfect sense to him. Though Beckman still couldn't quite believe his captain had jumped the man after losing that spar. There had to be more to it all than the obvious, as the obvious just did not make sense.

The sun rose higher, the noises coming from Shanks' cabin died down and some of the crew stumbled on deck looking like they hadn't got much sleep. Beckman wasn't surprised; the racket coming from the captain's cabin had gone on all evening and continued for half the night, then started up again fairly early. Shanks had an iron constitution and could get by on very little sleep but the rest of his crew were not so fortunate. Then there was the problem of what their captain was _doing_ which the entire crew found deeply disturbing and had likely made sleep all but impossible even after the noise had stopped. Beckman knew several of the crew had woken prematurely and gone for walks on the deck in the early hours before trying to get more sleep. He at least had been warned –however vaguely– about Spadille by Fox, as any man who had an agreement with his wife that any lovers either of the spouses took up with had to be willing to become involved with both had to be a bit off, but it had fallen far short of reality.

Although to be honest he probably wouldn't have believed Fox if she'd given him more of an idea of what her husband was like. 'Outrageous' just didn't cover it. Neither did 'shameless', though 'trauma-inducing' came close. Shanks had laughed off the large man's rambling monologue but Beckman was certain he'd been entirely in earnest about _everything_ he'd said and was rather grateful he apparently wasn't the blue-haired nutcase's type. Because if he had been Spadille probably would have done whatever-it-was that made Shanks forget about his usual sexual preferences to _him_ instead. There was no way Spadille hadn't done _something_ because Shanks just did not act like that. In fact, Beckman had never seen _anyone_ act like that other than lustful, hero-worshipping teenage girls.

Part of what made Beckman suspicious was how very _many_ of the crew had been felled by Spadille's cheerful admission to wanting to have sex with their captain and the following meandering ramble that had insinuated that Shanks either kept his crew in line with sexual favours or that Beckman himself kept Shanks' crew in line in exchange for sexual favours from his captain. Okay, the very idea was deeply offensive as their captain was both highly capable and nothing like that at _all_ , but that just meant the men should have got angry at Spadille. That instead they apparently found themselves unable to avoid visualising the possibilities mentioned suggested some kind of mind control, possibly hypnotism or another form of suggestion. As it was three quarters of the crew had been either unconscious or unresponsive by the time Shanks ordered the deck cleared for the spar and Spadille hadn't even been _surprised_. Which suggested he'd done it on purpose as a psychological attack and had been _expecting_ that outcome.

If he'd had hostile intentions Spadille could then have dispatched the rest of the crew in short order –he was a master fighter with that yari– and potentially even killed Shanks. He'd certainly distracted the captain into losing. No matter that Beckman had never heard of the man until arriving in Fuusha, which was even more telling considering Fox's former profession; Spadille was clearly highly dangerous even before he picked up a weapon. Not many people could fell over half an elite pirate crew with a few words and a smile. Not unless they were using haki, but the only Colour that could come close was Conqueror's haki and that was nothing like what Spadille had done.

* * *

The door to Shanks' cabin opened and all of the crew quickly set about getting on with busy-work and did their best to ignore their captain walking his guest out on deck and chatting animatedly about something. Beckman cocked an ear as the wind carried the words over; the Yonko was asking the unknown where he'd learned some of those moves. He could have meant fighting moves, but there was definite and probably deliberate ambiguity in the larger man's reply that made the conversation disturbingly suggestive. Largely because Spadille had apparently learned said moves from his husband, the 'lost' Zoro. Beckman noticed the slightly frantic fervour with which Zee and Axe were mopping the deck, Florin's shaky hands, the pained look on Sallee's face and Yassop's slightly uneasy confusion. The sniper was doing pretty well for a newbie: he hadn't been among the fallen yesterday and seemed to be willing to ignore his captain's potential lifestyle choices so long as he wasn't expected to join in. Once Yassop had a bit more experience he might make it into a position of greater authority, all things considered.

When the two men reached the rail Spadille paused and sighed.

"Well, this is goodbye then," he said regretfully. "For now at least: I'll see if I can't stop by and visit again once I'm on the Grand Line proper. Take care, won't you?"

"Hey, I'm always careful!" the captain said cheerfully, making Spadille laugh.

"Rahahaha!" the blue-haired man shook his head. "No, seriously: don't go upsetting people like you did my wife, okay? Not everyone out there likes you as much as we do."

There was a collective shiver as the entire crew abruptly remembered that Spadille was _her_ husband. Beckman knew that 'the smile' featured heavily in nightmares now, his own included; Fox had left an indelible impression on the Red-Hair Pirates.

Shanks chuckled. "I won't let myself be guilted into babysitting ever again," the redhead promised with a smile.

Spadille smiled, then abruptly bent down and pulled Shanks into a passionate kiss that left the redhead flushed and dazed. "Be seeing you," Fox husband promised huskily, then bounded up and over the railing and vanished. Really vanished; his presence was not even detectable via haki. Beckman had already known Fox could hide from Kenbunshoku, but sight was another matter entirely. Teleportation perhaps? Was that Spadille's Devil Fruit then? That could explain how the man was always in and out of Fuusha while the Red-Hair Pirates had been away if not the actual timing.

Their captain blinked slowly, face still pink, then leant his elbows on the railing and stared sightlessly into the distance. The slightly panicky crew might jump to the conclusion that he was pining already but Beckman had a better view and could tell Shanks was actually thinking very hard. They looked like difficult thoughts, too. He ambled over.

"Captain?"

"Hi Beckman!" Shanks said brightly, glancing down at the gun in his hand. "Is that the present Spadille gave you?"

Beckman hefted the rifle. "Yes," he said simply. "It's a good weapon. Sturdy."

"It looks it," Shanks agreed. "You can break heads without worrying about damaging the firing mechanism now!"

The first mate nodded, threading the rifle through his sash then leaning on the rail beside the redhead. "Something on your mind?" he asked lightly.

Shanks' smile faded slightly. "I have no idea what came over me during the end of the spar," he admitted quietly. "I'm grateful Fox showed up when she did or else I'd be even more confused."

"Fox was here?" Beckman supposed it was possible: if Spadille really could teleport taking others would be easy enough and a bad teleport could possibly explain how a person could get lost for years, but he'd neither heard nor sensed her at all and it wasn't like the ship was even slightly soundproofed. If it had been then more of the crew would have managed to sleep.

Shanks blinked. "Yes, she was," he said, looking at the first mate curiously. "She showed up right after we got into the cabin and didn't leave until this morning. Barely twenty minutes ago, in fact." He paused. "You _must_ have heard her; she's not exactly quiet in bed."

Beckman's lips twitched. No, Fox really wasn't. But somehow her children were never disturbed no matter how much she screamed, which he had been rather intrigued by. He had been pondering for several months now what kind of assassin's secret technique enabled a person to do that, much less how she 'hid' from Observation haki. "We only heard you and what I assume was Spadille," he said blandly, "and I know nobody on board got much sleep last night due to the racket."

Shanks looked stunned.

"Most of the crew are deeply disturbed but your apparent about-face in gender preference," Beckman added nonchalantly, unable to keep his amusement out of his voice. His captain's jaw dropped and he remained speechless for several seconds before bursting out laughing.

"Dahahahaha! Oh, she got me good!" he chuckled. "They've got a terrible sense of humour, haven't they?"

Well, Shanks taking it as a joke was rather typical of him but that wasn't going to reassure the crew. Bad enough that they were already completely terrified of Fox.


	13. Twisted

Managed one more chapter before going on holiday!

Mentions of rape in this chapter, so potentially upsetting.

* * *

 **Twisted**

Spadille wandered through the streets of Mecha, letting his instincts run his body while his mind was fully occupied in a mental conversation with his wife, who was back in East Blue with the kids. Fox had determined that morning that they had done _something_ to Shanks to make him more amenable to having sex with both of them. She also thought it was a siren thing, which made hashing out the details and learning to control the skill about ten times more important.

Sirens were one of the dirty and horrifying secrets of the Void Century, created during the war that had raged for most of the time period. They weren't really sure which side had done the deed as all the data on sirens had been destroyed centuries ago and all that remained of them was their genetic heritage and a few horror stories passed down among the mermaids. They had been created in a laboratory as terror weapons, moderately smart animals engineered from Sea Kings, humans and fishmen and moulded to look like mermaids: beautiful, cheerful and fishy-tailed. However they were also amoral sexual predators whose abilities to enrapture and bedazzle were tuned to affect the strongest and smartest in order to take out the upper levels of the enemy's command and destroy morale at the same time. That sirens had typically done grievous bodily harm to their victims while raping them to death and then ate most of the evidence made them very good indeed at demoralising those who were left behind after an ambush. That Sirens had hunted in packs only made it worse.

However despite being created as predatory animals and terror weapons it had only taken three generations of breeding with their victims for sirens to become as intelligent and self-aware as humans and merfolk, though sadly their predatory tendencies had remained. Despite being sentient beings they had still been man-eating sociopaths, mostly because they had difficulty identifying with what their instincts told them was 'prey'. However at the end of the war the newly established World Government had sunk a lot of time and energy into wiping out sirens and had apparently succeeded, though at a great cost of human lives; sirens were very good at what they had been designed to do. All the scientific data on sirens had also been destroyed as well as all the historical mentions and artwork. There was literally nothing left, or at least so the government had intended. Spadille however was pretty sure that a few small packs had slipped through the government's nets –sirens were by that point rational, self-aware beings capable of forward planning– and later integrated into the human population once having tails was eventually bred out of them. Then there was the mermaid problem.

The so-called 'mermaid problem' was a result of a series of unexpected genetic overlaps between sirens and mermaids combined with the siren habit of abandoning babies who weren't aggressive enough –likely due to those same overlaps– at birth. They were predators and pack predators besides, so any that couldn't keep up and pull their weight were cast out. Sirens were not the most compassionate of species by a long shot. Baby sirens however were precocial, superprecocial even, so abandonment did not necessarily lead to death. It did however frequently lead to the prepubescent siren getting mistaken for a mermaid, particularly if they had a merfolk parent. Back home the Otohime Research Hospital had eventually determined that the average mermaid had between fifteen and forty percent of their DNA originating from sirens, the natural predatory aggressiveness completely suppressed by the more expressive mermaid complexes that encouraged a peaceful mindset. Considering that mermaids had been almost wiped out alongside sirens at the end of the Void Century because panicky, paranoid humans often couldn't tell the difference and that the peaceful fishtailed people had suffered just as badly, if not more so at the hands –and teeth– of the artificial species, finding out _that_ had come as a nasty shock for the poor scientists. It had come to an even greater shock to the Sea Kin, as those with mermaid heritage but no tails were called, as they frequently had inherited siren genetics without the moderating mermaid complexes and so had the more aggressive traits free to express themselves.

Fortunately most of the more dangerous siren traits seemed to be stress-activated, rising to prominence only when a person was under severe physical or mental strain. Fox's mother Pearl for example had a rather large percentage of siren in her genetic code but as her life had been short on life-threatening peril and severe trauma her more siren-like traits were very mild, falling within the normal human range if towards the edges. Fox herself on the other hand had _all_ the various traits she had the genetics for expressed to a greater or lesser extent, dampened only by her rigorous early training and the sympathetic affinity granted by her Devil Fruit. She could feel the emotions of the people around her and that tempered her predatory tendencies considerably.

It had come as a shock to Spadille to discover that what Fox had initially thought were mermaid genes that had accidentally been transferred over to him when he ceased to be Portgas D. Ace and became Edward D. Spadille were actually siren ones. Not very many in the grand scheme of things, but due to the incredible physical strain almost dying had put on him the entirety of his siren heritage was fully expressed and affected him rather strongly. In fact a few bits that were supposed to be female only were expressed too, possibly as a result of having Iva turn him into a woman for Zoro's birthday that time a decade after Luffy made Pirate King. Not that he'd had much in the way of gender preference to begin with, but the slight shift in what he found attractive had still taken some getting used to afterwards.

Siren heritage was why Fox was spending a lot of her time in this different reality tracking down half-blood mermaids and individuals with mermaid heritage. The predatory instincts that inevitably surfaced in those with siren blood could be channelled productively and safely with enough early training and the more extreme sexual tendencies could also be averted or at least mitigated if the matter was approached the right way at the right time, but if a child's parents didn't know how or reacted badly to their offspring's less humane tendencies things could get very bad very quickly. Indiscriminate slaughter came easier to Sea Kin than to the rest of humanity and most of them wouldn't lose any sleep over it either. It was the predator in them, which was why a proper upbringing was _vital_ for teaching all these potential time bombs about themselves, the importance of treating other people sympathetically and how to maintain control over their various not-quite-human urges.

Not many had been located so far, but Spadille knew the numbers would increase over time as the various half-mermaids his brothers in his Pops' crew had sired had their own kids. There were nowhere near the numbers he remembered from back home, but Fox's agents on Fishman had located a few hundred and formed a social network so the kids could get to know each-other and socialise with other more 'outgoing' mermaids. He'd recently discovered that his big sister Spitfire had existed in this world after all, but she'd never actually met Roger and so hadn't gained her paternal name. She was just Angel, a name that had made him howl with laughter when he heard it. Spitfire was no angel and never had been, unless it was an angel of cheerful violence. However she'd left Fishman Island aged seventeen –over a decade ago now– and not been seen since, vanishing into the open seas without a trace. Probably pursuing her D-borne dream; not being acknowledged as a D would not make the need to achieve her goal any less all-consuming. Though without a Tempest in this world to back her up and other adventurous half-bloods to help her goodness only knew where she was and how she was doing, if she was even still alive. Worse was how horrendously disorganised the part-bloods were in this world: Spadille doubted 'Angel' even knew she had a sister by Roger, let alone a baby brother. In his home world they'd had Fox chase him down and practically deliver him into their arms!

* * *

Spadille came back down to earth to a crunch and a quiet groan; looking around, he immediately spotted the bloody, battered form of teenage Killer slumped against a wall, a knife embedded in the ground a short distance away. It looked like the blond had tried to mug him again. Quickly revisiting his most recent memories Spadille determined that yes, Killer had indeed tried to mug him again. However on autopilot the former Yonko was much more proactive in defending himself and the teen had been comprehensively flattened since restraint was a conscious choice. As the blue-haired man pondered the situation, his would-be-attacker succumbed to unconsciousness. Oops. He couldn't just leave the boy here, but he didn't really want to take him to the gunsmith's place and possibly muck up Kid and Killer's first meeting. First impressions were _important_. Frequently wrong, but still very important. Which meant taking the teenager home, or failing that the clinic.

 _Precious?_ He inquired, conveying his request. Fox had never stopped training and refining her control over her Ability and looking for new things to do with it; about eight years after Luffy made Pirate King she'd started investigating how to identify people from a distance based on their connections to people she knew and could now locate blood relations to people she used her Ability on from over twenty miles away. It made hunting down long-lost relatives much easier, especially the human kind who had the means to relocate after finding out a night with a pirate had left them with a nine-month souvenir. A lot of women put down false names for the father of their child on the birth certificate because human archives were far less secure than the mermaid ones had ever been. Relocating after the birth often prevented people from putting the child's looks together with that of their pirate sire, especially if the mother claimed that the child took after her side of the family. However from his end it made hunting down long-lost relatives much more challenging.

His wife sighed mentally and told him to pick up the idiot, then called on her Ability to guide him. Hopefully the relative she had located would be helpful, but if not Spadille would take the opportunity to try out his new bedazzlement trick. Carefully. It had made the distinctly heterosexual Shanks jump him and agree with a threesome, so who knew what effects it would have on those who were less spirited, had weaker convictions or who were already somewhat attracted to him?

* * *

Killer woke abruptly with a groan. He'd been beaten up before; Mecha was full of gangs and the streets were very precisely divided into territories that most of the artificers and workmen were blithely unaware of. Killer didn't belong in any of those gangs so when they could catch him –which wasn't often– they tried to make sure he wouldn't invade their patch again. Of course, not belonging to a gang had the advantage that when one gang started chasing him he just had to cut through the territory of one of their rivals and his pursuers were inevitably ambushed. Not belonging however meant he had to stay on the move, frequently hanging out in the neutral no-man's-land along the docks or at the heart of the industrial district. Picking the pockets of strangers and sailors made enough money that his mother didn't have to starve in order to buy him new clothes. Her job could only support one person comfortably or two people meagrely and with him eating so much now she couldn't afford to buy anything other than food with her wages and there was no way she was letting him go out in clothing that didn't fit. So he supplemented her income by robbing idiot sailors headed for the taverns to drink their money away. His mother had never asked where the money came from but he suspected she knew. She however had not asked him to stop, so he hadn't.

He'd spotted the big, blue-haired man several times in the past year and knew he was a ship's captain with a very odd-looking crew, but that hadn't really mattered to Killer. In his experience big men were often slow or had limited mobility, so stealing from this one should have been easy. As a captain the man could afford a minor loss and this guy certainly wasn't poor if he was in business with Master Carlingas, the man who'd taken over the Eustass family business after the old owner had died.

However the big guy clearly had experience avoiding pickpockets, as he'd successfully dodged Killer every time they'd run into each-other so far. Well, except the most recent time, which had resulted in his new black-and-blue look. Killer had come around a corner, spotted the blue-haired captain ambling along looking distracted and thought it was his lucky day. However as he'd reached out to grab the man's wallet a hand had clamped down on his wrist and tossed him into a wall. Killer of course had recovered quickly and drawn his knife, but he'd been disarmed in an instant and then been thoroughly beaten until he stayed down, which had taken a while as he had _not_ wanted to stick around and be found by the local gang while he was injured, but the bastard hadn't even let him escape and just kept hitting him until he couldn't stay up any longer. He'd felt several bones break during that beating and had eventually keeled over and passed out from the pain. However he very obviously wasn't lying in the street anymore, as the ceiling he could see through swollen eyelids was familiar and the mattress beneath his back was one he'd recognise even if concussed: he was home.

One of the things he'd made an effort to ensure was that _none_ of the gangs knew where he lived. Calculatedly extreme violence against would-be stalkers had achieved that. So who'd brought him home? The fifteen-year-old twitched in place and winced behind his untidy fringe. Oh yeah, he definitely had broken bones: floating rib, collarbone, lower arm and two fingers. Nothing debilitating but he wasn't going to be at his best for a while, considering that it also felt like there wasn't a single square inch of him unbruised. Cautiously levering himself out of bed and eyeing the splints on his broken fingers and the sling supporting his left arm with mild curiosity, the tall blond teenager shuffled out of the tiny room and down the rickety stairs towards the kitchen while minding the rib. Judging by the faint sound of voices, his mother had a visitor. A male visitor, he amended as he caught the sound of a bass voice just as his mother laughed delightedly. Well, she'd had male visitors before but they were frequently put off from ever returning by the fact that his soft, pretty curvy mother had an untidy, lanky ruffian for a son. He doubted this one would be any different.

Cautiously elbowing open the kitchen door Killer stepped over the threshold and stopped dead: there, leaning against the wall and _clearly_ flirting with his mother was the blue-haired and frighteningly strong bastard who'd just beaten him bloody. And his mum was _giggling_ as the massive man ran his fingers through her hair and pouted at her! What the _hell_ was going on?!

* * *

Spadille had been pleasantly surprised by Killer's mother, who was a petite, plump, down-to-earth woman and utterly delightful. She'd been incredibly grateful to him for bringing her son home –not to mention stopping by the clinic on the way there to get the teenager's broken bones splinted– even after he'd admitted to being the source of his injuries. She'd laughed off his sheepish confession and said warmly that it would do her Killer –that really was his name– good to remember that he had a long way to go yet before he was grown, then offered Spadille tea. The large man had accepted and asked idly about the blond boy's father. The answer he got suggested the unnamed man was both absent and much missed, so Spadille had changed the subject briefly to his own much-missed wife then flirted playfully and completely frivolously with his hostess while the kettle boiled. The round-faced, doe-eyed blonde was called Rose, was probably the same age as Rouge would have been had she lived and completely wonderful. She laughed at his outrageous comments, blushed at his sincere admiration of her person and giggled when he told her how she was breaking his heart and how unfair it was that he was already married. She could tell he wasn't remotely serious but she flirted back in the same vein, which was the silly kind of fun he'd missed.

Then just as the kettle started steaming the door leading upstairs creaked open and a lanky, untidy teenager decorated all over with purpling bruises paused on the threshold. Spadille let his fingers trail through the ends of Rose's hair as she turned to pour the tea and turned to grin a little evilly at the young man watching him in utter bewilderment.

"Sleeping Beauty awakes! Seriously Blondie, I've been evading you for most of the past year; did you really think I was an easy mark after all that? You're lucky you aren't strong enough to be a proper threat or the lovely lady Rose here would be burying you. I mean it kid: brush up on your threat assessment. Not everyone's as nice as I am."

"You broke two of my fingers, my arm, a rib and my collarbone," Killer said flatly, "and I'm bruised all over. Even on the bottoms of my _feet_. You aren't nice."

"Rahahaha!" Spadille laughed. "No Blondie, I'm not nice. But I do like you, so you get a pass this time even though you started it. Drawing knives on strangers can get you killed, especially when you don't take them seriously. Threat assessment, Blondie: get good or got dead."

"Killer!" Rose reprimanded her son in shocked tones. "You didn't!" Killer hung his head. "How could you! Apologise at once!"

Oh, Spadille was going to get so, so _much_ fun out of this in a decade or so when Killer wound up on the Grand Line!

Killer shuffled over to the table and lowered himself into a chair. "Sorry about the knife," he muttered quietly.

Spadille removed said knife from his belt and placed it on the table. "You ain't the first idiot to try and mug me, Blondie," he informed the teenager cheerfully as Killer accepted the returned weapon and hid it in his sleeve, "but you're certainly the most persistent one. If I wasn't so sure your charming mother would murder me I'd invite you to join my crew."

"Quite right," Rose said disapprovingly, setting out teacups. "Killer isn't ready to leave home yet, especially if he can't tell how dangerous a person such as yourself is."

Spadille caught her hand and laid a kiss on her knuckles. "Lady Rose, you flatter me," he said smoothly with a wicked smirk. "I'm not as bad as all that, truly!"

Rose blushed pinkly and withdrew her hand. "You are certainly a liar, probably a criminal and _definitely_ a shameless flirt," she said, not sounding disapproving at all. "I feel sorry for your poor wife."

"Oh, but she loves me for it!" Spadille laughed, making eyes at the flustered woman, "and so do you my lady Rose!"

Rose sniffed, smiled and poured the tea. "You are a charming rogue, Spadille," she informed him tartly. " _Every_ woman loves a charming rogue."

Spadille sat down and sipped the tea, not minding that it was scalding hot; he was made of fire, so a little more heat wouldn't make a difference. "This is wonderful tea," he said appreciatively.

"See! A charming, flirtatious heart-breaker you are!" Rose exclaimed with a fond smile. "I may never recover." Her deadpan delivery nearly made Spadille choke on his tea.

"You, my lady Rose, are a wicked tease and a cold, cruel woman!" he exclaimed dramatically, clutching at his chest. "To be condemned so causally by such an exquisite lady! I may die of it!"

"Oh, you," Rose laughed, her mirth sweet and bright in the dingy kitchen. "I haven't been 'exquisite' since I was twenty!"

"Lies!" Spadille said dramatically, enjoying far more than he should the wide-eyed panic in Killer's face as he twitched in his seat. Teenagers were so much fun to torment and the blond's face was actually _visible_ so it was possible to _see_ how freaked out he was! "Lady Rose you are the fairest flower blooming on this miserable little island and I defy anyone to say otherwise!"

Rose went on laughing but now there were tears in her eyes, and to haki her joy was both sharp and bittersweet. Spadille leapt to his feet and wrapped his arms around her comfortingly, fishing out a handkerchief. "Have I upset you?" he asked quietly, petting her hair as she buried her face in his solar plexus and sobbed into the hanky, one arm wrapped tightly around his waist.

"No," she told him with a sniff, pulling back and dabbing at her eyes. "It's just… Killer's father would say that to me too."

Spadille gently tugged the teary blonde over to the table, sat down again and pulled her into his lap so he could hug her properly. "And it's the truth," he said firmly. "You need to hear it more often."

Rose giggled through her tears, burying her face in his shoulder and letting herself be comforted. Spadille glanced briefly over at Killer and had to quash a snigger: poor Blondie looked ready to bolt. Of course he was a teenager and had no idea how different relationships could look much less work yet, so he was likely terrified that Rose was about to announce that Spadille was going to be his new father. Never mind that he'd said he was married already and Rose wasn't his type. She was a darling though; Killer had been holding out on them all, hiding such a gem away. He absently dotted kisses on the petite blonde woman's hair, murmuring soothing nonsense and rocking slightly on the rickety chair.

"Thank-you," Rose said eventually, leaning back and sliding off his lap before daintily blowing her nose.

"We never stop missing our loved ones," Spadille said wistfully, "no matter how long it is since we've seen them or how soon we will see them again."

Rose turned, placed a hand on his shoulder and kissed him; Spadille cradled her head in his hands and kissed her back as sweetly and gently as he could. She didn't fancy him in the slightest, but kisses weren't always about passion. Fox had taught him that.

"You are _always_ welcome here," she told him firmly after ending the kiss, turning back to the stove to hide her flushed face. Spadille rose to his feet, walked over to her and leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"It's nice to have a sister again," he told her sincerely, making sure the words wouldn't carry any further. No need to enlighten the teenager behind him. Rose hiccupped.

"I take it all back: you are a dear man and I envy your wife terribly."

Spadille kissed the tip of her nose. "I'll visit when I can, but I've got a dream and I'll be chasing it down within the year."

"Of course you do," the petite blonde said with a sigh. "All the best ones have dreams."

Spadille turned to his bag and fished out a couple of letter cases. This was a bit frivolous, but Fox agreed that friends were important and Rose was quickly becoming a nakama for all he might never see her again. He used a pocket knife to drip a little of his blood on one of the sigils, then cleaned the blade and offered it to his newest sister. "Here: do as I did," he urged her. "Then I'll be able to write."

Rose did so, bandaging her hand afterwards then asking, "How will this enable you to write to me?"

Spadille smiled and tossed the case in the air where it turned into a news coo. "You put a letter in the case, throw it out of a window and it'll find me wherever I am," he told her. "Then I can write back and it'll bring my reply back to you. It isn't a real bird so it doesn't need to eat and it never tires." That wasn't quite the truth, but it was close enough. The letter case reverted and dropped to the table with a clatter.

"What about the other one?" Rose asked. Spadille smiled.

"Well if Blondie is anything like what you mentioned of his father he'll want to chase his dream as well, so I thought I should make sure you could write to him too."

Rose threw herself at him, jumping up to catch hold of his shoulders and kissed him in fervent gratitude. Spadille wrapped his arms around her so she wouldn't fall and kissed her back. He knew how precious children were, even if the child in question was a violent, amoral mass-murderer. Parents loved their children regardless. He should know: his eldest back at home had never exactly been shy about making his displeasure known and they'd been caught unprepared for how _very_ strong some of his inherited instincts proved to be.

* * *

After the tall, blue-haired captain called Spadille left the little house he shared with his mum Killer hoped very much the man would never, ever return. No matter how much his mum liked him. In fact, _especially_ because of that: seeing Mum laugh and flirt with the massive captain who'd beaten him up had been bad enough but seeing him comfort her had sent chills down the teenager's spine. She'd even kissed him! Twice! And the bastard called him _Blondie_ of all things! No, today's events were something Killer was going to do his best to put out of his mind, though he would remember the absolutely _vital_ lesson the beating and its aftermath had taught him: threat assessment was _important_.

* * *

Shanks had been wondering how on earth he was going to tell Master Rayleigh about his daughter ever since Fox left him standing on the docks in Fuusha after almost killing him over her children getting hurt. Not that he blamed her in the slightest for the murder attempt; he'd really had it coming. So many years spent with just his crew and occasionally other strong pirates had led him to forget quite how fragile and vulnerable normal people were, let alone normal children; for all they'd grow up incredibly strong –Fox wouldn't let them be anything else– that was years away. In retrospect his actions had been careless, inattentive and could all too easily have led to Luffy or Orchis being seriously harmed or even killed. Fox had been perfectly justified in her reaction and it didn't really change anything between them: he'd known already that she was strong and having it confirmed changed nothing. That she was easily on his own level and possibly stronger had been a shock, but somehow he couldn't see a point in fearing her. They certainly were not in love but she was his nakama now and he could never fear a friend.

Getting seduced somehow by Spadille and having a threesome with him and Fox while he was sailing past Renaisse had not made things any easier. On the upside, he didn't have to worry about Fox' husband being angry with him as Spadille _clearly_ was not; the downside however was that the couple's prank had traumatised his crew in ways he hadn't realised were possible. He'd told them all outright that Fox had spent the night with them too and the men definitely _wanted_ to believe him, but they were visibly having problems processing the sheer insanity that was the beautiful blonde woman's husband. Seriously, how was avoiding him all year long only to track him down later and somehow get him to agree to a threesome with his wife an acceptable response to meeting the man who'd got said wife pregnant over a decade previously? Never mind the flirting and teasing insinuations about how he kept his crew in line! That it turned out the majority of his men were also completely terrified of Fox did not help, though Shanks had to agree that smile she'd turned on him back on Fuusha had been chilling. He'd had the odd nightmare himself about that particular smile and slowly suffocating under a choking weight of haki.

Sitting in Shakky's Rip-Off Bar and savouring a saucer of very fine sake, Shanks decided that he'd tell Master Rayleigh the story from the beginning. He'd mentioned the lovely blonde to his fellow former Roger Pirate before on the off-chance the older man knew who she was, so it was just a matter of continuing the story from where it had been left off. Most of his crew was off doing whatever, but Beckman was sat over by the door of the bar with his new rifle across his knees and the habitual cigarette in his mouth. Sallee had promised to keep an eye on Yassop while they were in Sabaody so hopefully his brilliant new sniper –who had recently gained a bounty– wouldn't get in too much trouble.

"No hat?" asked a familiar but slightly aging voice from behind him. "What happened?"

Shanks grinned as Master Rayleigh sat down next to him at the bar. Of course, he _had_ to tell the man about Luffy first! The boy's dream was the same as their old captain's had been, after all!

After enthusiastically telling Master Rayleigh all about Luffy, Shanks took another sip of sake and pondered how to share the next bit.

"Well, _there's_ a look I haven't seen in quite some time," Master Rayleigh said dryly with a faint smile. "What is it that you've done that you think you're going to get in trouble for?"

Shanks grinned. "You remember the blonde I mentioned meeting at the captain's execution?"

"Your long-haired conquest with a strong left hook?"

Shanks nodded. "I met her again. Turns out she's Luffy's foster-mother. She's got another three kids of her own." He paused. "The eldest one's mine."

Rayleigh laughed. "Well it was bound to happen eventually, wasn't it?" the retired pirate chuckled, shaking his head. "I hope she wasn't too angry with you?"

Shanks shook his head with a smile. "Not at all; she ambushed me with the news in private then encouraged me to get to know my boy better. He's a smart kid; inherited his mother's brains." The Yonko paused. "I found out a bit more about her too."

"Oh?"

The redhead shot a sideways glance at the former first mate of the Roger Pirates, whose golden blond hair was going white at the temples. "Turns out she's a pirate's child too."

Master Rayleigh raised an eyebrow as he took another swig of rum.

"Told me her name was _Silvers_ Fox," Shanks said lightly. He'd timed it perfectly: the older man choked as the rum went down the wrong pipe and sprayed it across the bar top. Shanks didn't look at him, his entire attention on the sake swirling in the bottom of his saucer. "Her hair's a bit lighter than yours but she has your cheekbones and looks _exactly_ like you do when she's angry. Same irritated expressions and everything. She doesn't frown when she's furious though; she's got this little smile that should look sweet but somehow is utterly terrifying." The redhead paused. "She's got something of you around the jaw too, but it's subtle. The gold eyes really throw you off and make it hard to spot the details."

Rayleigh carefully put his flask of rum down on the bar top and turned to look the redhead in the eye. "You got my daughter _pregnant_ , Shanks?"

"Not on purpose!" Shanks protested a little nervously, not _daring_ to tell the older man that Fox had been fifteen and in South Blue during her pregnancy. That would prompt Rayleigh to murder him and the redhead did have some self-preservation instincts. "It wasn't like she _told_ me she was your daughter; I didn't actually find out until just before I left in May and that was only because I asked if you were her father." He paused. "She doesn't seem to expect anything from you; just said it was your name on her birth certificate. She's an incredible woman though. I think if it came to a real fight I'd lose." And not because she was physically stronger than he was either, because she wasn't: Fox simply outclassed him in sheer speed, raw intelligence and mastery of haki and was no-holds-barred _sneaky_ when provoked. Or even just when having fun, now that he thought about it. If she ever decided to bump him off he wouldn't stand a chance, but she'd admitted she cared for him to the point that she couldn't face fighting against him, so he wasn't going to worry about it. He was pretty sure that if she ever _did_ decide to kill him he'd deserve it.

Rayleigh took a large swig of rum, staring thoughtfully into space with a wry smile on his face. Smiling probably because Shanks had just told him his daughter was about as powerful as you could get, but wry because the older man hadn't known he had a daughter and where there was one, there would likely be others. Shanks had been worrying about that himself of late and had tried to stop by and catch up with various former flings while sailing through Paradise. He hadn't found any more unexpected kids yet, but he'd spent much more time in the New World. He still had to ask on Fishman too, which could have a few and the fact that the place 'belonged' to Whitebeard would make it awkward.

"Tell me about my grandchildren," Rayleigh said eventually, "and about my daughter."

Shanks grinned and cheerfully launched himself into describing Fox and her family while refilling his sake saucer. He'd managed to avoid bringing down Master Rayleigh's wrath on his head! This called for more alcohol!


	14. Surprise

I'm still on holiday, but I found an internet café. So you have a chapter!

* * *

 **Surprise**

It had been Ace who'd met Sabo first, back when they'd been eight. The dark-haired twin –because they _were_ twins no matter that they'd been born four months apart to completely unrelated women– had been digging through the mounds of trash in Grey Terminal looking for mechanical items with salvageable working parts and stumbled across a foul-mouthed blond slightly shorter than he was who wielded a mean lead pipe. Ace however had five years of structured combat training under his belt and extensive practice in fighting a person with superior reach, so Sabo had been flattened. It was the first fight Ace had gotten into with somebody his age he wasn't related to –he'd beaten up any number of scavengers who thought that 'young' meant 'weak'– and the dark boy had been a little surprised by how very easy winning had been. The surprise had killed any anger left at being attacked from behind and Ace made a friend. Well he did after the blond woke up and realised Ace had dragged him into the trees and patched him up a bit rather than just leaving him where he lay.

Blaze had met Sabo two hours later, giving his twin's new friend the fright of his life by ghosting up behind the blond and starting a wordless conversation with Ace over the strange boy's shoulder. Sabo had screamed like a girl and jumped a foot in the air when he noticed the slightly taller redhead standing behind him. After those rather unfortunate first impressions however they'd all gotten on well and had great fun together, both in Grey Terminal itself and in Edge Town. While Ace had massively improved his technical skills fiddling around with all the stuff the nobles of Goa had chucked out as most of the so-called junk was pretty easy to fix, Blaze had got frighteningly good at passing unnoticed and acquiring sensitive information and Sabo had gotten much, much better at fighting. He still lost more than he won though and despite doing the haki exercises their mum had taught them could barely manage Armament at all. He was decent at Observation though.

The twins hadn't told Mum about Sabo. He was their friend, their secret and Blaze was pretty certain the curly-haired blond was born to the nobility –he could read, write, was very well-spoken and meticulous about hygiene when most of those on the trash heap noticeably weren't– so they were waiting for him to share a bit more about his background before introducing him to their mother. Mum was special and though the twins were sure she would welcome Sabo if they ever brought him home with them, they first wanted to be sure their friend wouldn't accidentally upset either their younger siblings or their mother. Well, that was what they told each-other anyway.

After the 'Fist of Love' incident however everything changed: Mum decided that the best way for Luffy to learn about his Devil Fruit was for him to be allowed to wander around Midway Forest and get into trouble. Ace found this deeply unfair as Luffy wasn't anywhere _near_ as good with haki as they had needed to be in order for Mum to let them go where they pleased. Blaze however had quietly pointed out to his twin that Luffy learned best by getting himself into trouble then _needing_ to improve, so Ace did not argue. Much. He however refused to babysit his little brother and dashed off ahead to Grey Terminal every single day, be it from the house just outside Fuusha or the rundown old building on Mt. Colubo they'd turned into a base camp for when they stayed away overnight. Mum's books on carpentry and the lessons in how to repair things had come in very handy for fixing the place up and both twins could cook. Cleaning the animals they'd killed was a lot of messy work and took both of them quite a while to complete –which was why they generally only helped Mum with it at home as she was better at it– but having all those cleaned and tanned animal skins to sleep on gave both of them a warm feeling of accomplishment. The crocodile skins they sold to a leatherworker and cobbler in Edge Town for more money than the canny bastard had wanted to part with. Fortunately however both twins knew how to haggle.

Blaze did watch over Luffy, but not obviously. The redhead shadowed his little brother every day from the treetops from the moment he dashed out of their family home until he staggered back into their mother's arms in the evenings. He also occasionally distracted the wildlife trying to turn the seven-year-old into a snack and fished him out of the river whenever he fell in. Blaze suspected he knew more about the rubber-brain's Devil Fruit from watching all the inevitable mishaps than Luffy himself did from experiencing them but did not comment. The younger boy had no idea how closely he was watched and the elder one intended to keep it that way.

It had been the middle of June when Fox first allowed Luffy to follow the twins into the forest; it was the end of July before he finally stumbled across their campsite on Mt. Colubo. Blaze celebrated the occasion with roasted crocodile –Ace hunted the semi-aquatic reptiles at every available opportunity and was willing and able to clean the corpses by himself– and let Luffy eat until he was stuffed to bursting. Ace had not exactly celebrated but he gruffly congratulated their little brother for not being completely hopeless, which the rubber-brain had been delighted by.

Ace had also been pouring over the battered second-hand book their dad had given them about deceiving people into giving you money and trying to think up ways to apply them. Neither twin was very keen on committing daylight robbery in Edge Town no matter how much Sabo liked the idea –there was too high a chance it would come back to bite Mum– so they were sticking to pickpocketing and nocturnal breaking-and-entering for the time being. The lock picks they'd got for their birthday were seeing a lot of use. However if they could successfully run scams like the ones described in the book then they could persuade people to _give_ them money, which opened up a multitude of new opportunities. Sabo _was_ committing daylight robbery though, so the twins acted as lookouts when necessary and helped him escape. It meant they had a bit of a reputation, but it wasn't anywhere near as bad as it might have been. The general opinion was that the blond in the shabby top hat and blue coat had some kind of leverage over them or was corrupting them somehow, or so Blaze had heard. So much for the adage that eavesdroppers never heard anything good about themselves.

* * *

Blaze was pretty sure Mum had a very good idea of what they were getting up to but she hadn't forbidden them from doing anything. She'd just made it clear that she would be very disappointed with them if they were _caught_ committing crimes and would punish them accordingly. The redhead had immediately deduced that getting caught –or even just identified as the perpetrator– was the part of the crime that got you into trouble rather than the illegal actions themselves, so he threw his energies into making sure they wouldn't get caught. Scapegoating others was effective but it made Blaze uncomfortable, so he preferred to make sure the victims of his various crimes would blame a nebulous third party rather than have their maid or housekeeper arrested and punished for something they hadn't done. Of course sometimes the maid or housekeeper _was_ stealing from their employer, but in those cases Blaze preferred to attempt blackmail. It was safer and more productive, as the thieving servant would bring the valuables to a dead drop where he could retrieve them more easily. He never blackmailed the same person twice though as desperation made people do stupid, dangerous things. The bandit who had abducted Orchis was a prime example of this, based on the story he'd got out of his baby sister.

Mum definitely knew about his blackmail habit though, as she'd been the one to teach him about the difference between blackmail and extortion. He was still a bit too small and weak to be able to extort people successfully but he could blackmail just fine so long as his victims never got to see him. He was also learning a lot about card games and ways to cheat through spying on gambling dens. Gamblers were incredibly careless of their money and there was always enough cash lying around that a little bit here and there wouldn't be missed.

However neither twin thought Luffy would ever be able to do anything that involved lying, so he would never be able to run a scam. He would never see the point of blackmail either and wouldn't bother with extortion: he'd just break down the door and steal things. Blaze recognised that Luffy would eventually join them in robbing the inhabitants of Goa City so they had to find something he could do or else risk him interrupting their own schemes. Currently the redhead was leaning towards burglary: Luffy's rubber body would let him get into all kinds of tight spaces. They'd have to make sure he ate well before leaving though and promise him more food afterwards or else he'd get sidetracked. Their little brother was adorable as a kitten and just as fuzzy-headed. It was enough to make a big brother cry in frustration some days, it really was.

* * *

By the end of July Luffy was starting to get the hang of how Midway Forest was laid out and exploring properly rather than just blundering from one disaster to the next. Fox was very happy to hear it: though she trusted Blaze to keep his baby brother out of trouble that didn't mean she didn't worry about the rubber boy who would eventually grow up to be her captain's counterpart. Luffy however didn't seem to realise how much his careless antics and determined nature made his mother and big brothers worry about him, which made Fox unsure of whether she should laugh or cry. Her little boy was so _certain_ that he would reach his dream that he didn't stop to think of the dangers he faced along the way. He _was_ going to be Pirate King, so of course he wasn't going to be eaten by evil crocodiles!

Fox was grateful that Blaze was both willing and able to keep an eye on the rubber-bodied seven-year-old as she really couldn't right now. She was four months pregnant, her belly was swelling visibly and she had just started feeling the butterfly-soft movements of her babies within her. Of course, her Devil Fruit being what it was she'd been constantly aware of them ever since they implanted in the wall of her womb, but now they were responding to her gentle mental caresses and emotive projection. Soon her older children would be able to press their ears to her stomach and hear the quins' heartbeats and movements for themselves. While she would have liked to have a capable doctor around to monitor her health and those of her babies –Fuusha's physician was nowhere _near_ Law or Chopper's level– she had by this point gone through enough pregnancies to be able to ensure her children's wellbeing for herself. She knew what to eat, how much and what not to eat, though the cravings for fresh –and generally raw– shellfish and dates was a rather extreme change from her usual pregnancy-induced preference for pickles, cake and various spicy foods. Probably Marco's influence.

Orchis' studies were going well too: the five-year-old was a determined and very eager student, spending most of the morning engrossed in her lessons and half the afternoon in combat training. She would have spent the entire afternoon training but Fox recognised her daughter needed to socialise for her own emotional wellbeing and so she had set aside the time between two and five in the afternoon for playing with the villagers' children. Orchis had been born here and unlike Luffy actually had social awareness, so she got on well with the local kids and ran around playing tag or sat under trees playing house. An unfortunate consequence of this was that Fox occasionally got complaints about some of the things her daughter had innocently imparted to her peers that their parents considered inappropriate –like there being nothing wrong with wandering around naked in mixed company– but Orchis never got into trouble over them. The villagers adored her baby girl and were perfectly willing to accept that her oddities were a result of a combination of Fox's own failings –even decades later she still didn't understand why some people were so prudish– and that the plum-haired child was Garp's granddaughter, regardless of the level of blood-relatedness. A little strangeness was expected from the Monkey family.

Fox knew very well her precocious and frighteningly intelligent little girl was not ignorant of how different her upbringing was to her peers in the village and while she was happy to play with them, the retired assassin could already see her mother's knack for getting people to do what she wanted in Orchis. It was innocent right now, getting them to play the games she wanted and to not tell their parents some of the things she could do or knew about, but Fox knew that she'd have to have a serious sit-down conversation with her daughter sooner rather than later so as to talk about what was acceptable and what was not.

* * *

It was the second week of August and Fox was chatting to Gyoru the fishmonger while his wife Chiken sorted out a string bag of fresh prawns for her, most of which were still wiggling. Fox was really craving raw prawns right now, which all her children thought was incredibly cool as they were generally still twitching when she de-shelled them. It had been raw oysters last month, which had been an experience. All her boys had been utterly fascinated by the idea of eating something while it was still alive and though only Luffy had genuinely liked the taste all three had wandered down to the rocky coastline below Midway Forest to collect oysters themselves, cracking open the shells with a knife and tipping the mollusc contained within down their throats. Blaze had even made a point to bring a bag home with him each evening so Fox didn't end up spending all her money on them; her little redhead proved he was the oldest and most responsible of his siblings in some of the strangest ways.

"Your babies are going to be playing on the beach as soon as they can toddle, Fox-san, if your cravings are any indication!" Chiken said with a laugh, handing over the bag of still-twitching prawns for the blonde to put in her basket alongside the fish she was cooking for dinner and the vegetables she'd bought from the greengrocer.

"I'll probably lose them to the sea as soon as they're old enough to manage on their own," Fox agreed wryly. "Oh well, there's always next time."

"Next time, Fox-san? Your little ones aren't even born yet and you're thinking about next time?" Gyoru asked with a chuckle. "Will you even have the energy after raising the five you're expecting and the four older ones?"

"We'll have to see, won't we?" Fox said cheerfully, handing over the money for the prawns. They were expensive but she _needed_ them and not indulging her cravings would be unwise: her body knew what it needed.

"Which reminds me: Fox-san, have you met the man who came into town this morning with Makino-san's latest alcohol shipment?" Chiken asked. "He's been asking about you."

"About me?" Fox repeated, puzzled. Why would anyone ask about her? Nobody knew who she was. Well Shanks did, but he wouldn't tell anyone who would come in on a merchant ship. Garp had probably told all of Headquarters about his daughter but Marines would visit on Marine ships and she rather doubted they'd visit anybody related to Monkey D. Garp if it could possibly be avoided; the Vice-Admiral's insanity was cheerful, pervasive and very well-known.

"He's sitting in Party's Bar," Gyoru told her.

"Well I'll take the food home and put it in the fridge then investigate," Fox told the couple. "Thank-you for telling me." She could investigate with haki but in this case she preferred to get her shopping put away before nosing around. Fox absently pulled out a prawn, shelled it, gutted it and popped it in her mouth as she wandered up the road back to the house. Despite living in Fuusha for the past ten years Garp's house wasn't home. Spadille and Zoro were her home and Zoro wasn't here. She refused to contemplate the possibility of having lost him for good; he _would_ find her and then she wouldn't let him out of arms' reach for the next six months. Asura wouldn't mind, in fact he'd probably be delighted to make up for all the time in her bed he'd missed out on and do his best to get her pregnant again as soon as was humanly possible.

* * *

Fox had already eaten half the prawns by the time she got home; eating for two was challenging enough but eating for six? She was eating nearly as much as her Kajin did and she was only just into the fourth month of her pregnancy! Rather than put the remaining prawns in the fridge she went on snacking on them as she returned to the village and had practically finished the entire bag by the time she was just outside the bar.

While Fox did monitor her surroundings with haki as a matter of course, she didn't really pay much attention to most of what was going on. Currently the majority of her attention was focused on her children –both born and unborn– and Matsuri, who needed careful handling still for all her mental and emotional wellbeing had greatly improved. So while part of her mind was vaguely aware that there was somebody who was the counterpart of a person she'd known in her home world in Makino's bar, who that person was exactly hadn't really registered. So when she opened the door and saw Silvers Rayleigh –still mostly blond and far less wrinkled than she remembered– sitting at the bar with a glass of rum in front of him, her legs gave out in shock.

The former Roger Pirate –'Grandpa Ray!' a small part of her mind squealed as the larger part which was living the mask shouted 'Dad!'– moved very quickly indeed, catching her before she got anywhere near the ground and lifting her up in a bridal carry.

"Are you alright, Miss–?" He asked solicitously, the look in his eye suggesting that he knew _exactly_ who she was and was only asking for the look of the thing.

"Fox," the blonde said a little faintly, letting her head rest against his shoulder. "I… wasn't expecting you." Understatement of the century, that. Her babies moved inside her, sensing her distress, so she took a moment to reassure them. When she opened her eyes again Rayleigh was sitting down on a chair, cradling her gently with a look of concern on his face as Makino hurried around the bar with a glass of water.

"Are you alright, Fox?" Makino asked worriedly, reaching out to check her forehead with the back of a hand. "You nearly fainted! Have you been eating properly? Resting enough?"

"I'm certainly eating properly," Fox said firmly, "despite my babies wanting raw seafood and dates for every other meal. Matsuri insists on making sure I eat other things in addition to whatever I find myself craving."

"But not resting enough," Rayleigh concluded dryly. His hold on her was ever so slightly possessive, suggesting that Shanks had told him she was supposedly his daughter. Not something she'd expected to happen at all, to be perfectly honest. It made her wonder if the redhead had also confessed to helping her get pregnant back when she had allegedly been fifteen. Eh, Rayleigh was bound to pick up on her supposed age soon enough from listening to village gossip and do the maths. If it came to it she could always tell him herself.

"I have four other children and a very fragile young woman to look after," Fox said in response to Makino's disapproving look, "Even though the boys are out of the house most days the chores still need doing and Matsuri can't do them all by herself."

The barkeep raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "Then I will be having _words_ with them about leaving you to do them all in your delicate condition," she said tartly. "The twins especially: they know better."

"This isn't my first pregnancy Makino," Fox protested, "I do know my limits." Besides, her Devil Fruit gave her unlimited stamina so she really couldn't tire herself out; her unexpected collapse had been from surprise not exhaustion. Not that Makino knew that, but still.

Makino eyeballed the older woman sceptically. "You are expecting _quintuplets_ , Fox. That's five times the stress and pressure on your body. You need to take better care of yourself!"

Rayleigh had stilled in shock at hearing Makino say quite how _many_ babies she was expecting, but he recovered quickly:

"Perhaps I could escort Fox-san home, Makino-san."

"Would you, Ray-san?" the barkeep said gratefully. "Oh, where are my manners: Fox, this is Ray-san. He is visiting family in the area."

Fox blinked. There really was nothing like lying with the truth to keep people in the dark. "Very well, since I can tell Makino is not going to let this drop," she sighed, "but I _can_ walk."

Rayleigh set her on her feet and stood up, offering her an arm. "Shall we, Fox-san?" he said politely, amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes.

Fox accepted the arm, drinking in the man's appearance. Her own Grandpa Ray had died of old age over a decade before she'd been thrown into this world and yet here his counterpart was, only just starting to go white-haired at the temples. She'd _missed_ him.

"Well let's get you home, Fox-san," Rayleigh said, the look in his eye suggesting they'd be having a long chat once they were well away from possible eavesdroppers. Fox welcomed it.

* * *

Blaze couldn't believe it had taken Luffy this long to find Grey Terminal. Seriously, the place wasn't exactly hard to find, what with how large it was. Not to mention the stink. But no, it took his rubber-bodied –and brained– little brother two whole months to find the damn place. He and Ace had found it in their second week!

Well, at least now Luffy was in Grey Terminal Blaze didn't have to watch him so closely: The agreement had been that Ace would keep an eye on him here, since Ace preferred to dig amongst the junk for parts and useful odd and ends and only sometimes wandered into Edge Town to steal from people who actually had money. They were nominally saving up for a pirate ship with Sabo, but Blaze was pretty sure that if they told Mum they wanted a pirate ship she'd be able to find an instruction manual or blueprints so that Ace could build one. It couldn't be all that different to building a house, which his twin had pretty much done already as the place in the woods had been very run down when they found it; practically falling apart with the roof threatening to collapse.

While Ace spent most of his time in Grey Terminal, Blaze –before he'd been dragged into Luffy-sitting that is– spent _his_ time in Edge Town and occasionally scaled the walls to High Town. Since he was very good at passing unnoticed and acquiring sensitive information he was in Goa city much more than his twin and their friend. Sabo preferred to beat people up and steal their money, generally targeting criminals as they couldn't exactly report him to the authorities, so he stuck around the Great Gate and the seedier areas of Edge Town that lay just inside it. Ace was a scavenger first and foremost, so he generally only stole from people who tried to steal from _him_ , though he wasn't above sneakily cleaning out the occasional thug who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Haki gave the twins an edge that the lawless people scavenging on the fringes of society just could not hope to match, no matter how much more experience they had. That Ace was stronger than most of them anyway meant the twins were never challenged. Blaze wasn't quite as strong as his twin but he was faster, more accurate and more skilful. They made a good team.

Reaching out to his twin with haki and communicating Luffy's location, Blaze set off for Edge Town. He'd been away for so long he'd have to spend some time re-familiarising himself with the current gossip and what various major players were up to that other people would pay to know.

* * *

Luffy was very much enjoying exploring Grey Terminal. He'd found Ace about two hours ago taking things apart under a big tree. His big brother had told him that this was the stash tree and, since Luffy had managed to get here, if he came back in the evening they'd all go home together. In the meantime he could explore. Luffy wanted to do stuff with Ace more than he wanted to explore, but he knew that Ace really liked taking things apart and building stuff and he didn't want to _that_ with his big brother –boring!– so he went exploring anyway. Maybe he would find something his big brother would like!

He found some broken stuff that had gears and things and carted it back to the stash tree, but Ace wasn't there anymore. Shrugging, the seven-year-old dumped his findings where Ace had been sitting then dashed off again. He didn't think he could find Ace, but his big brother _had_ said he'd be back there in the evening so everything should be okay. Ace wouldn't lie to him. They were brothers after all!

The next time Luffy got back to the tree Ace and another boy were up in the branches and talking about how they were saving up for a pirate ship. That was so awesome! He hadn't known Ace wanted to be a pirate too!

* * *

Ace caught Sabo's shoulder before the blond could launch himself down at Luffy. "That's our little brother," he said quickly, "so you can't kill him." The dark-haired twin then leaned down to meet the rubber-brain's eye. "Oi! Luffy!"

"Yes Ace?!"

"Shaddup! People'll hear you!"

"Sorry Ace!" The seven-year-old bounced up and down on the spot and pulled some stuff out of his bag. "Did you see what I brought you yet? Do you like it?"

"This is your _brother_?" Sabo asked quietly but in tones of abject horror.

"He's a moron," Ace conceded, "but he's damn persistent and does know how to keep a secret." Luffy had never revealed anything their Mum had told them was secret to anyone, to the point of not even talking about it with his brothers except sometimes when they were going to sleep. And even then he whispered as best he could.

"Well Ace? D'you like it?"

Ace sighed and dropped down to ground level to see what Luffy had brought him. Hopefully it wasn't giant bugs again. Luffy proudly held out a rather slimy and dented metal box.

"What is it?" Ace asked warily. Luffy grinned and levered the lid open to reveal a mess of snarled gears. So the rubber-brain _had_ found something interesting after all.

"I found lots of other mechanical stuff!" his little brother said proudly. "I piled it up over there, see?"

Ace could see. Luffy either had a knack for scavenging or incredible luck; he was leaning towards the latter. "Thanks, rubber-brain," he said with a smile.

"Wahoo!" Luffy shouted exuberantly, bouncing forward to hug his big brother before turning his attention to Sabo, who had climbed down the tree after securing the stash and was frowning warily at the seven-year-old. "Hi! Are you Ace's friend? Will you be my friend too?"

Sabo blinked. "Why?" he asked, then looked a little startled at having actually said that.

Luffy stopped bouncing to stare. "Because friends are awesome! Mum says friends are the family you get to pick and family is awesome so friends are doubly awesome because they are family too!" He paused and turned to look at Ace. "Ace, why haven't you and Blaze brought Sabo home yet?"

Ace thought quickly. "We didn't want to share him," the darker twin said flatly. "He's _our_ friend and we wanted him all to ourselves."

"Does that mean I can't be friends? But I want to be friends!" Luffy protested hotly. "I'll fight you for him!"

"You always lose, rubber-brain," Ace retorted, "how will this time be any different?"

Sabo's eyes flicked back and forth between the brothers with a very odd look on his face. "Sure Luffy, we can be friends," the blond said thickly.

"You will?!" Luffy's eyes sparkled. "Awesome! Don't worry; I'll take you home even if the twins don't want to!"

Ace was about to protest that it wasn't that he hadn't _wanted_ to take his friend home and show him off to Mum when he sensed someone coming towards them. Several someones, one of them familiar: he'd stolen a load of money off that guy just a few hours ago. He grabbed Luffy and ran for the bushes.

"Someone's coming!"

* * *

When Porchemy grabbed Luffy Ace was torn. On the one hand, his rubber-brained little brother had this coming for running _into_ danger like that when he _knew_ they were hiding, but on the other hand Mum would beat him into crunchy paste if Luffy got hurt. Okay, she'd put him back together afterwards but that didn't mean it would hurt any less. Being pregnant made her moody and her feelings ran much closer to the surface, so she'd probably cry too and he _hated_ it when she cried.

Privately he didn't care much about the stash: he knew Mum was loaded, or could be if she wanted to be. He'd seen the Log Poses lined up behind the false wall in the back of the kitchen cupboard and knew what they were worth, plus she'd taught him and Blaze how to manage money using the family books. Seriously: _lots_ of zeros. Whatever their dad was doing was really profitable and likely highly illegal. They weren't paying tax on most of it either, but tax evasion wasn't all that bad in comparison and like Blaze said it was only a crime if you got caught. He nonetheless liked the idea of saving up to buy something without her help though and the stash mattered to Sabo, which meant taking advantage of Luffy being distracting and ensuring his stupidity wasn't in vain.

"Sabo, you move the stash to where my twin keeps his junk," Ace said quietly once the Bluejam Pirates were out of earshot, "I'm going to get Blaze." Ace knew he was good in a fight but Blaze could plan like nobody's business and they needed a plan to rescue their little brother without things spiralling out of control. Porchemy wouldn't kill Luffy: the big man wanted to know where the money was and dead things were singularly uncommunicative. However the longer it took them to rescue the rubber idiot the more banged-up he'd be and that would be bad. Very bad. He wanted his baby brother back in one piece!

* * *

Luffy whimpered as the big pirate with lilac hair and a tattoo made up of circles punched him again with his spiked gloves. He wasn't going to say where his big brother's stash was, he _wasn't_! Ace was his _brother_ and family stuck together. He wasn't a nasty coward who betrayed his family like that guy Dad talked about sometimes with Mum when they thought nobody was listening. He knew being made of rubber didn't stop him from getting hurt –Mum had proved that to him when he'd tried to beat her in a spar right after she got back from the training trip with the twins– but this really, _really_ hurt. More than anything else ever had. But he still wasn't going to tell!

The seven-year-old whimpered again as another spiked punch connected with his body. He wasn't going to tell and his big brothers were going to rescue him. He knew they were. Blaze had always looked out for him when he was little and Ace cared too even though he was grumpy at the moment and kept calling him 'rubber brain'. He wasn't going to tell!

* * *

Blaze hared across Grey Terminal, barely aware of his surroundings as he homed in on the small, suffering presence of his baby brother as behind him Ace struggled to keep up. That was partly deliberate; his twin was much kinder, gentler and more open a person than Blaze was for all he had the hotter temper and the redhead didn't want his brother to be there when he killed the man who was abusing Luffy. Because he _was_ going to kill Porchemy for this even if it brought Bluejam and his crew down on their heads.

Both twins –and Luffy and Orchis come to that– had been raised a little askew to what was normal for Fuusha and the rest of East Blue, a fact Blaze had only become aware of when he started spying on people from under Concealment haki. Most children did not learn to tumble and do acrobatics from the moment they could walk and self-defence as soon as they had a decent amount of control over how their body moved. Most children weren't raised on counting rhymes about the sea and its moods, the various types of island on the Grand Line and the many, many different ways to kill people. Haki was completely unheard of here but both twins were –according to Garp– more capable than most grown men four times their age, even in the Marines where martial prowess was expected. Blaze also knew now that most children were not exposed to death and killing –even just of animals– from even before they could walk. Blaze had once followed after his mother aged just five and watched her kill bandits in the woods. He knew what death was and he knew how to kill, but had never actually killed a person himself before. He knew however that in order to keep Luffy safe he was going to have to. Porchemy was growing impatient and Blaze was not about to let any of his family get hurt.

The redhead shot past a startled Sabo lurking near a few of the more harmless local scavengers and towards the shabby hut where Luffy was, loosening his katana in its saya. He didn't like the katana much but it was a decent blade and wasn't awkward to wield so he kept it. He wanted a sabre like his father had, but sabres were rare in East Blue and the katana was as close as he could get for the time being. Mum had promised to find him a sabre but for the time being he was stuck with his current sword and his hachiwara, which he _did_ like. If Porchemy had been normal-person-sized he'd use the hachiwara for this but the pirate was stupidly huge, so the katana it was.

As he heard Porchemy tell Luffy to die and sensed the pirate draw his sword Blaze wrapped his blade in Armament haki and sliced clean through the roof of the hut, splitting it in half. Falling down slightly behind the large, lilac-haired man Blaze adjusted himself in mid-air according to the prompting of his Observation haki. As the pirate turned Blaze angled his sword and swung back, cleanly decapitating Porchemy just as Ace and Sabo charged through the wall behind him. The redhead felt sick as blood fountained from the dead man's neck and the rest of the pirates fled in terror; it had been so damn _easy_. Mum was right: people were stupidly fragile. He idly shook the blood from his sword as Ace cut Luffy free with one of his knuckle knives and the four of them quickly made themselves scarce through the hole in the wall.

* * *

Sabo watched silently as Ace talked to Luffy and distracted him while Blaze cleaned and bandaged the younger boy's injuries. The blond had lived in Grey Terminal from the age of five and knew he was both strong and fast for his age, but meeting the twins had driven it home that there were always people who were stronger and faster. Not that either twin belittled him for his lack of skill: they'd been perfectly open about how their mother had trained them for as long as they could remember and had been happy to spar with him and help him improve. They even joined in to help him save up for a pirate ship and both were really good at stealing, though they were incredibly reluctant to engage in daylight robbery despite being strong enough to defeat any potential pursuers. He would have made more of a fuss about it except that Blaze was somehow getting hold of vast quantities of cash regardless of this reluctance and Ace was a very good pickpocket. There'd be enough to buy a good-sized boat within the year at this rate.

The blond now realised however that he didn't know very much at all about his two friends. Well, three friends now that he'd met Luffy. Admittedly he hadn't been all that forthcoming about his own past, but he hadn't even known the twins _had_ a brother. In fact, he didn't know if they had a father either. They definitely had a mother as they'd mentioned her as having taught them various things but that was it. Sabo wasn't sure if they were deliberately hiding stuff from him or just reacting to his own reticence to talk about family.

Blaze finally tied off the last bandage and Sabo cleared his throat.

"I have a little problem here," he admitted, idly twirling his lead pipe. "I've lived in this trash heap all my life–" all the parts he cared to remember at least "–but from this day forward the four of us are going to have our lives completely targeted by pirates."

"By the Bluejam Pirates," Blaze corrected him idly. "They bribe the nobility to turn a blind eye to their activities and do the odd favour for the rich and stupid. They're just one crew and not a very powerful one at that."

"Whatever," Sabo conceded, "but that still means we can't stick around our usual haunts."

"But I already said I was taking you home with us Sabo!" Luffy said brightly. "So you don't need to worry: Mum won't mind you coming to live with us!"

Sabo blinked. "Seriously?" he asked.

Ace snorted. "Mum's a sucker for strays; she took in Luffy after all. She won't mind you coming to stay as long as you help out with the chores and join in for lessons and training."

"She's pregnant right now though, so she can be a bit scary," Blaze warned him with a wry twist of the lips that was probably supposed to be a smile, "but you'll be very welcome." The redhead looked pale and unhappy, which Sabo thought was due to his having just killed someone. From the way Ace was watching his twin, the darker boy was worried too.

"Well, lead on," the blond said brightly, hoping quietly that they were right. His experience however was that most people didn't like gutter rats and he'd gone to a lot of effort to _become_ a gutter rat as it was the complete antithesis to the station he had been born to. His friends seemed pretty sure though, so she might at least let him sleep on the floor somewhere.

* * *

"So, quintuplets?" Rayleigh inquired lightly once they were out of the village. "That sounds like quite a challenge, Fox-san."

Fox smiled. "I relish it," she said honestly. "What brings you here though? I certainly wasn't expecting to see such an infamous personage in Makino's bar today."

The supposedly elder blond chuckled, patting her hand on his arm. "When Shanks told me he'd met a woman who claimed to be my daughter I had to come and see her for myself," Rayleigh said easily. "I can see the resemblance, though I'm not sure who your mother would have been. I'd definitely have remembered a woman with eyes like yours." His other hand caught her under the chin, lifting her face so he could study it more closely. "You really do look a lot like Hawk-Eyes, though not as much as I was expecting. Shanks was right: your eyes do rather lead a person to overlook the exact degree of similarity."

"He told you about me?" Fox hadn't expected it at all; this could potentially throw a serious spanner in her plan. The Rayleigh she had known had a good memory and all of his conquests were remembered by face if not by name. That was actually far more impressive than it sounded due to the sheer number of women and all the _decades_ they were spread across. Rayleigh had always been popular with women back home and Fox doubted the situation here was any different. She had located a decent number of 'siblings' with mer-heritage but far less than at home as the cultural shift on Fishman that had led to the emergence of the Sea Kin hadn't actually happened.

"Mentioned he got you pregnant right after our captain's execution," the Dark King said dryly, releasing her chin. "I was tempted to spank him for his carelessness; he was fifteen back then. How old were you? Eighteen? Nineteen?"

Fox smiled. "I'd had my own fifteenth birthday celebration just two weeks previously, Rayleigh-san." The only fifteenth birthday party she'd ever had, in fact. When she'd actually turned fifteen she'd been a slave and not even two months later she'd lost her nakama and gone crazy.

The man twitched. "I see. He rather neglected to mention _that_." Fox suspected the redhead would be getting a wholly unwelcome visit from the former first mate so the older man could properly express his displeasure. She knew the greying pirate already had Shanks well-trained, but sometimes lessons needed… _reinforcement_. "But please, call me something less formal: you are my little girl after all." He glanced down at her. "I never thought of having a family of my own but I find myself rather liking the idea."

Fox bit her lip as she led the aging man up the road towards the house. "May I call you Da?" she asked quietly. She missed having a daddy. Mihawk had always been a rather absent and distant father but grandparenthood had mellowed him and relinquishing Yoru to Mariposa shortly after she turned eighteen had made him positively affable. Fox had finally managed to forge a strong and close relationship with him and had loved having him around. Her Shanks had actually been more of a daddy figure for her when she was younger, though their relationship had never been quite as pure as a father-daughter bond should be. Far too much flirting as they both had no problem skirting and occasionally stepping right over the line. Garp tried, but though Fox never doubted that he loved her they just couldn't relate to each-other. That had rather been the case in her home world as well, but at least Garp made the effort.

Rayleigh turned and smiled. "I would be honoured," he said sincerely. Fox smiled back, tears welling up in her eyes.

"I'm sorry Da," she sniffed, fumbling for her handkerchief, "I'm just so hormonal right now!"

Rayleigh chuckled, wrapped his arms around her and drew her into a warm hug. Fox's control gave out and she sobbed happily into his shirt, wrapping her own arms around his neck as tightly as she dared. She clung onto him even as he lifted her off her feet and carried her the rest of the way to the house in his arms; Rayleigh had always been wonderfully reliable despite his slightly irresponsible streak where women were concerned. That is, he could be relied upon absolutely to care for and protect those he let into his heart. Everyone else… well he'd be polite. Sometimes Fox suspected he was where she'd inherited a lot of her slightly more ruthless attitudes from. Not that Mihawk hadn't contributed a lot of them and her mother was no slouch either, though arguably Pearl had inherited a lot of hers from Rayleigh also, being his daughter.

* * *

As Matsuri was supervising Orchis in the school room and the former dancer was only just starting to learn about haki –Fox was determined the petite woman learn about herself before adding the pressure of being able to sense others– Rayleigh was able to carry his blonde would-be daughter all the way into the kitchen without being noticed. Once there Fox slipped out of the aging pirate's arms, blew her nose on a handkerchief and managed to ask her new Da what he'd like to drink. She could make tea, but she did have some very nice rum if he'd prefer. Rayleigh did prefer, so Fox removed the bottle from its hiding place and set it in front of him with a shot glass. She did have a stock of rum, though she kept it well-hidden. Fox then put the kettle on for tea and started preparing a cold lunch for the four of them; the boys wouldn't be back until much later. She was a little worried about Luffy, who was in definite pain, but sadly that had become rather commonplace lately and none of his injuries were fatal, just painful. He'd probably fallen into a thorn thicket, fallen foul of a wasps' nest or had another, similar mishap.

"So, fifteen?" Rayleigh asked dryly after downing his first glass of rum and pouring himself a second one, which he sipped.

"I was married before I ever met Shanks, Da," Fox said calmly, "and I most certainly was neither virginal nor chaste when I married. The profession I was shunted into as a child taught me to see my body as a tool with which to accomplish my master's goals and I learnt my lessons well. I do recognise that I am broken in ways that would kill most sane people as a result of that training though."

"Profession?" her Da asked quietly.

"I am an assassin," Fox said simply. "I kill people when ordered to by an authority I recognise. I am currently masterless through no fault of my own, though my husband holds enough authority over me to keep me from falling into despondency." She smiled. "The children help too. Having responsibilities that cannot be set aside is very grounding and I love all my little ones dearly."

Rayleigh stared at the glass in his hands in silence for several long minutes. "How did you end up learning such a trade?" he asked eventually.

Fox paused, turning to look at the Dark King sitting at her kitchen table. No condemnation yet and no outright horror. Good. "The man who was my shishou bore the hoof of the dragon on his back," she said simply, "and so did I. For two whole years before I was even placed in his care, in fact."

The supposedly retired pirate went very, very still. "Did?" he eventually asked.

Fox smiled. "Did Shanks mention my healing abilities?" Rayleigh nodded. "Well I found a man with a sharp knife and experience in skinning. It was entirely worth the pain."

"And your shishou?" Most of the people she'd told this to in the past had never asked that question, though to Fox's mind what had happened to her shishou _was_ one of the more significant parts of this story.

"Once I'd learned all my shishou felt he could teach me we fought to the death, so as to be certain that the student had surpassed the master," Fox said quietly as she laid out pickles, rice balls, sashimi and fruit alongside cold cuts of meat, salad and fresh bread rolls. "He died with a smile on his face and his last words were filled with the pride he felt in me as his student and the satisfaction of having fulfilled his final obligation." Never mind that she'd been too far gone to do more than remember his words for later; at the time his death had meant nothing to her due to the recent demise of her nakama.

"Final obligation?" her Da inquired delicately. Fox smiled wryly.

"The final obligation is to train a worthy successor. A troublesome burden: I was not my shishou's first student. I was however the only successful one. I am forbidden to die at any hand save my student's, unless my master wills it otherwise." She sighed. "My master however is no longer able to order me to do anything, so I must do as I see fit. I do rather doubt however that I will find a suitable candidate any time soon."

"Ah."

Fox grinned. "But I do not actually have to even start searching for a student until I find myself slowing down, so that is a long way off yet. I have time, time enough to raise all my children and hopefully meet my own eventual grandchildren."

"Is that why you married so young?" Rayleigh asked.

Fox shook her head as she fetched plates and chopsticks. "No: I married young because I had met those I wished to spend the rest of my life with and refused to let them leave me. I know very well how fleeting joy can be and wished to seize as much of it as I could possibly carry off."

Rayleigh chuckled. "Exactly how _accidental_ was your pregnancy by Shanks then, my golden girl?"

Fox blushed, both at the oh-so-familiar nickname and her Da's perspicacity. "Far less so than he believes," she admitted; "I regret nothing."

The pirate bellowed with laughter. "Oh, you are a wicked child, my dear! I however reserve the right to terrorise him over it regardless."

"Go for it; Shanks could use an _incentive_ to be more responsible in future," Fox said with cheerfully vindictive glee, remembering the stories of the various things that had happened in her own world while a certain redhead had been babysitting her, not to mention what had happened here in Fuusha while she had been away training the twins.

Rayleigh chuckled. "Oh yes, you are most _definitely_ mine," he muttered into his drink. The sense of pride she could feel welling up within him was very nice and made her cry a few more happy tears.

* * *

Orchis' encounter with her new grandfather was utterly prosaic. The plum-haired little girl bounced into the kitchen, paused and asked the strange man who he was. The aging blond calmly informed the five-year-old that he was her Grandpa Ray –Fox's training was all that enabled her to keep a straight face while Spadille laughed like a lunatic in her head– which Orchis accepted with aplomb before diving into her lunch. Matsuri knew instantly who their guest was and connected the dots very quickly; the dancer was working on her education but she was far from stupid, especially when Rayleigh was no less infamous than Roger still was. The petite dark-haired woman then calmly ignored the powerful stranger, secure in the knowledge that any attempt to harm her would be met by lethal force from her captain's wife. Matsuri had come a long way in the past year.

Lunch conversation was superficial and mundane, then Orchis had light training with Fox for an hour and a half in the yard before being packed off to play with the local children. Her Da watched the training session with keen interest, Matsuri having wandered off a ways to practice with her Devil Fruit. The former dancer could make all manner of differently shaped objects now and was very good both at throwing them and finding new ways to use them. Her armed combat skills were skyrocketing too, building upon her impeccable dance training; Fox had to admit the younger woman's sensei had known what she was doing there. Matsuri had recently decided she wanted to be infamous and acclaimed for her grace in combat and now she had a goal in mind she was powering ahead and her confidence in herself was improving daily. All in all, Fox believed Matsuri would be ready to go back to her Kajin's crew in about two more years, so long as things went adequately well. Even if the quins would be entering their terrible twos by that time, which really would be _terrible_ as siren heritage made children precocious so they'd be pushing boundaries at the same time as undergoing rapid intellectual development. Fox had been taught to pick locks shortly after turning three by a babysitter who'd been chosen for her patience rather than her moral scruples.

After Orchis had run off Fox and Rayleigh went back inside to chat, bond and exchange stories until dinner. Her boys not arriving as the food was served gave her the first indication that something was very, very wrong; she reached out to them and sensed their return –far later than usual– with considerable relief. However Luffy's continued pain and Blaze's internal turmoil had her hurrying out the door and up towards the tree line to meet them, her Da not far behind her. What had happened?


	15. Bittersweet

Still on holiday, but I found that internet cafe again!

* * *

 **Bittersweet**

When Luffy dashed out of the trees right into her arms, bandaged up like he'd been used as a pincushion, Fox felt her Kajin's mind abruptly focus and a kaleidoscope of images passed between them. So _that_ had happened, or something like it. Then her twins emerged from the underbrush alongside a boy with curly blond hair, missing a tooth and wearing a battered top hat and Spadille's emotions went all over the place. Fox let him pull back, though she knew he would be eavesdropping.

"Luffy! What happened?" She asked, carefully stroking his bruised face marred with bloody trails.

Her youngest son opened his mouth, paused then firmly closed it again, not looking her in the eye. Luffy knew he was a terrible liar so Fox was teaching him to deceive without lying, since as a pirate he needed to be able to keep secrets. However the first step was teaching him to just keep his mouth shut when he didn't want to tell the truth.

"You don't want to tell me?" She asked gently, resting her forehead against his as she balanced him on her hip so she could look him in the eye.

Luffy shook his head, mouth firmly closed.

Fox smiled sadly. "Are you happy with how things turned out?"

Her boy brightened instantly and nodded enthusiastically.

"Very well then." She kissed her little boy on the nose, both sad and very proud at how well he was growing up. "Dinner is on the table; Matsuri will serve you some." She put the cheerful child down and he instantly dashed off towards the house.

Fox then turned to face the twins and the third ten-year-old. "Introduce your friend, boys."

Ace tore his worried gaze from his slightly taller brother and smiled hopefully at his mother. "Mum, this is Sabo. Can he stay?"

Fox chuckled. "He can stay for as long as he wants to, Ace sweetie. I was wondering if you'd ever be bringing home friends for me to dote on!"

Sabo looked shocked; Ace beamed. Blaze however couldn't even muster a smile, which seriously worried the pregnant blonde.

"Ace, take your new brother into the house and feed him," she said firmly, walking over to her darling redhead and crouching in front of him. "I'll look after Blaze." She ignored Sabo's startled gasp and her husband's wild delight; the stunned blond boy was her Kajin's family, counterpart or not, so she wasn't about to turn him away.

Ace nodded, visibly relieved, and finally noticed Rayleigh. "Who's that Mum?"

"This is my Da, Ace: your Grandpa Ray."

The young brunet's eyes widened briefly and he grinned mischievously. "Cool," the son of Gol D. Roger said cheerfully, latching onto his dazed friend's hand and dragging the younger boy off down the hill. "C'mon Sabo: if we don't hurry Luffy will have eaten everything!"

* * *

Silvers Rayleigh's interest had been caught by the boy called Ace from the moment he stepped out of the shadow of the trees: the ten-year-old looked far too much like his captain had when he was younger to not be a relative. For all that the young brunet's face was still rounded with baby fat, the initial worried scowl and the delighted grin that had replaced it had both been pure Roger, as had that last mischievous smirk. Rayleigh had never known his captain to have freckles, but Ace looked so much like the late Pirate King around the eyes it was uncanny and the former first mate, unlike the rest of the crew, _had_ met his captain's lady-friend. This boy reacted a lot like Rouge had.

Blaze also drew the eye, mostly because the boy's face looked _exactly_ like Shanks' had when the captain of the Roger Pirates had first carried the redhead on board by the scruff of his neck. Not the expression –Blaze clearly had his mother's reserve– but the shape of the forehead, jaw and cheekbones were exactly like his father's. He also had the same rich red hair that Rayleigh had never seen on anyone else, though the ten-year-old apparently had curls. Those were from the Silvers' side of the family: the greying pirate's own mother had possessed incredibly beautiful curly hair, though hers had been blonde. Rayleigh's mother had been as lovely as a porcelain doll with a charming and adorable manner that entranced both strangers and acquaintances, but those who knew her well had feared her for her sweetly terrifying smile and her dictatorial manner. For all her fragile beauty Silvers Elisabeth had been as tough as old boots and ruled her children, husband, siblings, parents and in-laws with an iron fist and magnificent subterfuge. There was a _reason_ Rayleigh still refused to set foot on his home island. Even though she'd probably died while he was away at sea, he was certain her ghost would be running the family with an iron fist still.

Rayleigh's daughter was very much like the Dark King's own mother in several ways if Shanks was to be believed, but she was also gentler and less controlling. An amusing contrast, since she was also much stronger physically. Currently said pregnant daughter was kneeling in the dust in front of her son by Shanks and stroking his face.

"Tell me what's wrong, my darling boy, so I can help you," Fox said quietly.

Blaze shivered. "You were right Mum," he muttered, leaning into her, "people are stupidly fragile."

Fox wrapped her arms around the slim redhead. "Oh my poor baby," she said, her voice hitching in sorrow. "I love you sweetie. It's all right; let it out."

Blaze burst into tears, sobbing quietly into his mother's shoulder as he threw his arms around her neck and clung like a baby monkey. Fox rose to her feet, not hindered by the ten-year-old's weight in the slightest, and cuddled the boy close.

"Was it an accident sweetie?" The pregnant blonde asked calmly once Blaze had subsided slightly.

"No."

"Good," Fox said firmly. "You were fully in control of yourself and made a decision. Could you have lived with yourself had you not made that decision and things had gone ahead?"

Blaze shivered. "He was going to kill Luffy, Mum," the redhead whispered. "I _had_ to!"

Fox patted the ten-year-old on the back soothingly; Rayleigh was starting to get a picture of what had happened.

"But you prevented that and Luffy is safe," she said firmly, turning to walk downhill with her son still in her arms. "Let's get some food into you. Everything seems less bleak after a good meal."

Blaze sniffled, burying his face in the side of his mother's neck. "Love you Mum," he mumbled.

"I love you too, sweetie."

Rayleigh suspected that Fox was the only mother in existence who would react this way to finding out that their ten-year-old son had killed someone. Murdered someone, in fact; there had been a definite element of premeditation involved from what he had gathered. It made him wonder how old she'd been for her first kill and how deliberate it had been, which was not a happy thought. He was meeting his grandchildren for the first time, so he shouldn't be thinking about such gloomy things that were so far gone in the past they could not be changed. So the mostly-retired pirate followed his daughter down the hill back towards the house and started up a light conversation with his red-haired grandson about the challenges of keeping an eye on energetic and reckless young men with all the common sense of a kitten. Rayleigh was referring to Roger –and to Shanks as he'd been a handful when he first came on board– but Blaze was talking about Luffy. Luffy was apparently a lot like Shanks had been as a child. Rayleigh knew all about how Shanks had been when he was younger and was sure that, if Luffy really was like that, he'd see it soon enough.

* * *

After Fox had fed all her children plus their friend, hugged them, reassured them, promised to discuss everything properly come the morning and tucked all five of them up in the large bed in the room her sons and daughter shared with Matsuri, she returned to the kitchen and made a pot of tea. She didn't just boil water, add tea leaves and drink the resulting infusion though: instead Rayleigh was treated to a full, formal tea ceremony that ended with his daughter cradling a cup in her hands and all the tension flowing out of her as she sipped her drink. Rayleigh had not been offered tea, nor had he requested any: this had clearly been a private ritual. He understood how stressful she must have found the past few hours, what with Luffy being injured, Blaze suffering the aftermath of having killed somebody and dealing with the curly-headed blond who couldn't seem to believe what was happening to him.

"You know, your boy Ace looks rather familiar," he said idly, wondering if he could really believe that his daughter's adopted son –who according to Shanks was technically her cousin-once-removed-by-marriage– was also his captain's child.

"Boys often take after their fathers, at least in looks," Fox said serenely, eyes barely opening as she gazed at him over the edge of her teacup. "Neither of my sons has their father's temperament though. Well, Ace is a lot like Spadille was at the same age but he has a better grasp on his temper. My husband was terribly hot-headed as a young man."

Rayleigh pondered his daughter's cunning, subtlety and perspicacity. She knew exactly what he had meant and had answered him, but in such a way that anybody overhearing the conversation –not that there was anybody awake within earshot– would draw the wrong conclusions. She had confirmed that Ace was indeed his captain's child by Rouge without ever uttering a single incriminating word.

"He's a bright young man; all your boys are in fact and Orchis is brilliant," the Dark King went on easily, enjoying the verbal dance his daughter was leading him on. "Luffy differently to the others though." Once they were within the safety of the house Luffy had abruptly lost all his reservations and had behaved in a manner disturbingly reminiscent of Roger. The familiar battered hat perched on the seven-year-old's head only made the resemblance more uncanny. Ace may have looked like the late Pirate King but Luffy had Roger's temperament to the point Rayleigh had been having uncomfortable thoughts about whether or not he believed in reincarnation.

"My littlest boy does shine, doesn't he?" Fox said wryly, eyelids drooping to conceal her wickedly keen golden gaze. "He is not the kind of person to do well in a classroom but he has a good heart, remembers the things that matter to him and has a knack for movement and combat that is currently being seriously hindered by having eaten Devil Fruit. Hopefully he'll adapt before he falls too far behind his sister."

Rayleigh nodded. He'd seen how Devil Fruit could affect adult men and a child who was still growing into themselves would probably have even more problems.

"I see they've been well-trained," he added. It was very obvious to anyone with a modicum of combat experience that all her children were being taught to fight. Ace was probably a budding hand-to-hand specialist but Blaze was already a swordsman. Luffy was too clumsy to read but Orchis seemed to be currently focused on hand-to-hand, which given her age could change, and Matsuri was a freestyler in training who was already familiar with multiple weapons. Fox herself was a master of many styles; it showed in her incredible self-awareness and unbelievable grace. His daughter was probably one of those rare people who could pick up anything given a little time, so she was likely picking out styles for her children based on their temperaments, builds and interests.

"Early training prevents them from picking up bad habits later in life," Fox responded with a smile. "Goodness knows my Kajin had a bundle of them when I first met him. You'd think he'd been raised by bandits."

There was a joke there but Rayleigh couldn't put his finger on it, so he ignored it. He knew the Portgas family was well-off, Spadille being a cousin to the main branch or not. "The twins' haki is very collected. I've never met anybody so capable at such a young age."

Fox glanced up at him. "I learned young and discovered that it is actually easier to learn to use it if you start young. Children have less understanding of what is supposed to be impossible, so they expand their skills and achieve things no adult would ever consider attempting." She sighed. "People talk about the three colours but that most people can only use two of them, but who discovered those colours in the first place? How can you be certain there are only those three? Has anyone ever gone looking for more? Have you ever tried to do other things with haki beyond observation, reinforcement and dominance?"

Rayleigh paused, glass of rum in hand. Actually no, he'd never tried to do anything else. His teacher had said there were three types of haki and he'd taken the old fossil's word for it. It seemed however his daughter had somehow survived her training with her inquiring mind intact and refused to take 'that's how it is' as an answer. Which was a good attitude to have; he'd never have become a pirate if he'd been prepared to take the world as it was. He'd never thought of applying that mindset to haki though.

"I take it this isn't just a theoretical complaint," he stated, eyeing his daughter with an amused smile.

Fox snorted. "I've discovered or refined a further seven colours and am working on an eighth," she said tartly, "and there's an ninth I'm aware of that I can't do but is possible if a person has the aptitude. Arguably they're all variants of the basic three, but they're different enough that you wouldn't know that to see them in use."

Rayleigh blinked. His daughter wasn't just a haki master, she was an innovator. Not something he'd expect from a trained assassin; imagination was generally the first thing to go when a person was being moulded into a tool. However the idea of eight new kinds of haki to mess around with rather piqued his interest.

"Nine?" he asked.

"Observation, Armament and the Conquering King are the basic three," Fox said, "and I've learned to use Concealment, Absence, Confidence, Offense, Deception, Motion and the Ruling Queen, though to be honest the latter is a perversion rather than a true Colour in its own right. I'm working on Revelation and the one I can't do is Heart. I know someone with the aptitude though and I have an idea of how it works, so I might be able to teach it." She sighed. "I can't do Heart because of my Devil Fruit, which gives me a very similar skill. I just can't work out how to modulate my haki to do something I've always used Ability for."

"I'm sure you'll get there eventually," the Dark King commiserated, internally giddy at the possibilities. He didn't want Fox to tell him how to use all those different Colours; she'd found out for herself and he wanted to do so as well. The names were likely self-explanatory for the most part and it would give him something interesting to do with his retirement. It was clearly an ongoing long-term project for his daughter.

Fox's lips twitched. "Be careful who and what you practice on, Da," she said dryly. "Some of them are very destructive and others mess with peoples' heads. The first thing I did after learning Observation was work out how to use it actively rather than passively and it can be a little startling to begin with." She sipped her tea. "That's Concealment and Deception, incidentally. Revelation is a reversal of concealment and one my husband accidentally discovered. It's also easier for women, so you might never get it to work properly. Absence, Offense and Motion are all Armament variants. Confidence and Ruling Queen are Conquering King variants, though there's much more that can be done with Conqueror's haki than just knocking people out anyway. Heart…" his daughter paused. "Heart is tricky. It's like Observation but not, an alternative rather than a derivative. You need to be around other people who can use it to really get the benefits."

That sounded _fascinating_. Rayleigh resolved to take the time to experiment somewhere out of the way and find out if he could get the same results his daughter had, or indeed make new discoveries. And here he'd thought retirement might get boring!

Fox yawned. "Will you be staying, Da?" she asked.

Rayleigh grinned. "I won't say no to a bed for the night, my golden girl," he said easily.

His daughter smiled at him, joy dancing behind her eyes. "I'll have to put you up in Garp's room unless you'd rather share with me," she told him with an amused twitch of the lips.

Rayleigh laughed aloud at the thought of Garp finding out he'd visited. "I don't mind borrowing you adopted father's room, darling girl. Just be sure to wash the sheets after I leave!"

Fox smacked him on the back of the head for implying she'd be so slovenly in her housekeeping, or possibly so careless in her covert dealings with criminals. Rayleigh wasn't sure; it could be both. It was a very comfortable bed, though the virulently floral shirts in the closet were a surprise. He'd never considered that Garp the Fist might ever be out of uniform; the man was insanely dedicated to his job.

* * *

Rayleigh spent his first week in Fuusha getting to know his grown-up daughter, helping her with chores around the house and in the garden, carrying her purchases when she went shopping, taking over a few of little Orchis' lessons in order to pass on some of the more interesting things he'd learned in his lifetime and watching with interest as Fox taught her boys to fight. Getting to know his grandsons and granddaughter –and Rayleigh was highly amused by Roger's son being his grandson too; did that make his late captain his son-in law? – was also not something that could be done in a mere week, no matter how much experience the former first mate had at wrangling powerful and sanity-challenged young men. Getting to know your family was something worth doing well and Rayleigh intended to take his time as much as was possible, considering he was still a wanted pirate and was visiting his biological daughter in the home of the powerful and respected Marine Vice-Admiral who had adopted her.

Rayleigh respected Garp –it was difficult not to– but hearing his grandsons talk about the older man made it rather clear that despite being a good Marine and a decent officer Garp was a terrible parent and not much better as a grandparent. Oh well, at least he tried and Rayleigh was grateful that his late captain's most persistent enemy didn't even seem to have considered targeting Ace for his heritage. In fact, from what his daughter and grandsons had let slip it was pretty clear that Garp considered them all family and was willing to stand by them despite the likelihood of it adversely affecting his position in the Marines should the truth ever come out. His taking in Ace would raise a good number of eyebrows but Garp was widely recognised as being honourable to the point of idiocy and Ace _had_ been a newborn, so Sengoku might be willing to let it slide. Taking in Fox was another matter entirely though: she was dangerous in her own right as well as being the daughter of the Dark King and Garp had known it but taken her in anyway. Well, he'd known she was dangerous. Fox had made it clear to him that Garp didn't have a clue about her heritage or who else her kids were related to. Well, other than Orchis who was fathered by Fox's husband.

Rayleigh resolved to do something nice for Garp after getting back to Sabaody. Maybe he could anonymously send the Vice-Admiral some of his favourite brand of rice crackers?

* * *

Sabo stumbled yet again as the deck of the fishing boat Grandpa Ray had borrowed shifted under his feet, his head barely missing the mast. His shoulder however did _not_ miss and the blond grunted as his collarbone collided with the solid wood. He was going to have a bruise there in a bit. One more for the collection, to go with the ones on his shins, his back and the scrapes on both his elbows and knees.

He wasn't the only person on board having trouble adjusting: Ace had fallen overboard twice and was soaking wet with salt crusting on his hair and Blaze was already showing the beginning of what promised to be a really fantastic black eye and moving a little gingerly as though not entirely certain that his legs could be relied upon to keep him upright, probably due to catching the edge of his knee when he tumbled down a hatch. A hatch that would normally lead into a hold full of fish, but Blaze was spared that indignity although the absence of fish meant he'd dropped onto slimy, fishy boards instead. Whoever Grandpa Ray had borrowed this fishing boat from hadn't cleaned it out very well. Grandpa Ray on the other hand was lying on his back in the middle of the deck, completely at ease and visibly amused by their ineptitude. Sabo would have been more pissed off about that, were it not for the fact that Grandpa Ray had succeeded in persuading Mum to let the three of them go out in a boat with him to learn how to sail. Well, that's what he'd told Mum: he wasn't doing much teaching though, just telling them what to do and laughing at them as they staggered drunkenly while the little boat rolled alarmingly under their feet.

They _were_ learning though. Grandpa Ray had showed them all the ropes and told them what each one was for before they even left the harbour and had not let them untie from the dock until they had proved to him they knew how to tie all the required knots, could recite all the names of the various ropes, sails and parts of the ship off the top of their heads and had demonstrated that yes, they could swim. Sabo wasn't very good at swimming compared to Ace or Blaze, but he could keep his head above water, which was the important bit. Grandpa Ray however had promised to help all three boys improve their swimming skills another day, as while the twins were decent at it they could all do better. Swimming in a lazy river was very different to keeping your head above water in the choppy open ocean.

For now though they had to sail this tiny little boat as far north-east as they could, then turn it due south for a few hours before turning west to get them back to Fuusha village. Possibly even north-west, depending on how strong the wind turned out to be. As they were currently sailing slightly into the wind there was a lot of work involved in staying on course, all of which the three boys were doing. Grandpa Ray had the compass and was lying on his back with one foot keeping the rudder steady, but all that meant was that the waves that hit the side of the boat weren't knocking them off course.

Another wave sent them sideways and Sabo latched onto the railing for dear life, catching sight of Blaze dragging his twin back from where he'd almost tumbled over the side again. The blond clutched at his battered, much-mended black top hat; he _really_ hoped Ace's propensity for falling overboard was something he'd get over once he found his sea-legs.

* * *

Blaze sat with his back to the mainmast, head tilted back to stare up into the blue bowl of the sky as the air around him rang with his new Grandpa's laughter and his twin's ire. Mum's dad seemed to know exactly what to say to fluster Ace without setting off his temper in earnest and had been cheerfully poking fun for quite some time now. Not that Blaze had been spared; Grandpa Ray knew Shanks very well and it gave the aging pirate an unfair advantage when it came to pushing the ten-year-old's buttons. It seemed quite a few things beyond physical appearance really _were_ heritable. Blaze had also squirmed and moaned and blushed as his Grandpa told stories about dumb and Luffy-esque things Shanks had done as a kid, much to Sabo and Ace's amusement. Ace however had been laughing partly as payback: Grandpa Ray had started his reminiscing with a recitation that should have been titled 'Dumb Things Gol D. Roger Did Before Becoming King of the Pirates (And a Few He Did Afterwards)'. It had been completely hilarious, filling in the gaps between the stories compiled in 'Seeking Freedom' and adding details that were really not at all child-friendly, such as _why_ they had still been anchored at St. Poplar when the Marines showed up that time. The story of how Roger wound up growing his signature moustache back when he was in his late twenties had Sabo and Blaze hiccupping with mirth and Ace scarlet in the face with furious embarrassment.

Between the Roger stories and the Shanks stories Blaze had shared a number of Luffy stories to keep his grandpa and Sabo amused while Ace fumed and gradually calmed down. Grandpa Ray had chuckled long and laughed loud at some of the stories of their little brother's rubber-brained exploits and shared a few sillier stories about Roger, mainly centring around the few occasions he'd been flatfooted by somebody's deadpan reaction to his theatricality and the many times he'd fallen over asleep at awkward moments. Those had made Ace laugh and got him to put aside his brooding so as to ask for more Shanks-stories.

Ace finally gave up trying to get back at Grandpa Ray and stomped over to throw himself onto the deck next to his redheaded twin, face twisted in petulant grouchiness. Blaze let his twin be, sensing the simmering confusion, discomfort and reluctant amusement roiling in his slightly shorter brother's mind. Ace had apparently found the all stories about their respective fathers hilarious for all his horror at how _very_ like their rubber-brained little brother _both_ men apparently had been back when Grandpa Ray had been the first mate of the Roger Pirates. Shanks hadn't changed significantly since, in Blaze' opinion. Though from Grandpa Ray's stories, Roger hadn't even managed to improve as much as his former apprentice had despite his thirty year career.

Behind the twins Rayleigh turned his attention to Sabo, causing both twins to prick up their ears and shamelessly eavesdrop.

* * *

As the little fishing boat finally turned back towards Dawn Island, the sails catching the afternoon sea breeze and being carried along with ease, Ace clung firmly to the rigging and pondered the day's happenings. It had started pretty well, with Rayleigh turfing them all out of bed early so they could eat an early breakfast and get started. He'd quizzed them on ropes, ship parts and knots over the breakfast table then hustled the three of them out of the front door so quickly that Mum had barely had the chance to push bentos into their hands before they were trotting down the road towards the village.

Once in the village, they headed for the harbor and into a borrowed boat. Ace had his doubts about the Dark King asking for permission to borrow it, but he probably had if he intended to visit them again. He had that same sneaky planning quality that mum and Blaze had. After fully demonstrating their knowledge of knots first hand, they were off on a rocky first voyage of joy and misery. Joy because despite falling off the boat multiple times and all the bruising they had gotten while sailing he was out on the _sea_ and _sailing_. Misery because did his father really do all those embarrassing things? At least Ace didn't get to hear about any stupid things his father did while still a brat like Blaze did about Shanks. Because as twins they shared just about everything, which included misery.

Before turning around they had broke out their bento, and they had their first meal out on the sea. Crocodile had never tasted so good. Unfortunately after finishing his food Rayleigh –Ace couldn't quite think of him as 'Grandpa Ray' yet– had started teasing him. Not in a nasty way, but like Mum did sometimes when she thought he needed to lighten up a bit. But Rayleigh _wasn't_ Mum and Ace wasn't going to take it from a stranger even if that stranger was family so he snapped and snarled back. Unfortunately for some weird reason the Dark King thought his irritation was _hilarious_ and went on teasing him with this massive grin on his face and chuckling every so often as Ace insulted him. So Ace finally gave up trying to get his sort-of Grandpa to stop it and stomped off to find Blaze, who was sitting by the mast. He'd been about to start a conversation with his twin when behind them Rayleigh had turned his attention to Sabo.

The Dark King had definitely been told a bit about their blond brother's background by Mum, as there was no other way Rayleigh would have known Sabo had probably been born into the nobility. However Sabo's prompt and vehement repudiation of the aristocracy and all it stood for was then coolly dissected, deconstructed and refuted by the graying pirate, who went on to calmly lay out a number of very good reasons why Sabo should be more thoughtful and discerning in what parts of his heritage he chose to discard.

Glancing sideways at his twin, Ace could see that Blaze was listening attentively and he could feel the redhead's avid interest in the discussion. Most of Rayleigh's points made good sense: nobles might be bastards but they wouldn't have got to where they were if they weren't smart and didn't know how to make and manage money. Being a noble asshole also didn't stop a person from being clever, so nobles could have good ideas even if they went about applying them in the most disgustingly oppressive way possible. The trick was apparently to take every situation, look at it dispassionately and think critically about the various factors at work, then decide which bits you agreed with and which you didn't. Critical thinking was one of Mum's favourite lessons, so Ace could do a bit of it, even though Blaze was way better due to having the unfair advantage of a tricky mind. However he hadn't thought to try and think critically about Sabo's situation, or what it implied beyond the obvious. Blaze was the one that had initially suspected Sabo wasn't the garbage born brat he presented himself as. Sabo had told them a bit about his father since then, nothing specific of course, all of which had made it very clear the man was a slimy, amoral, bigoted ass, but he was clearly a rich bigoted ass in a city where the nobility alternated between buttering each-other up and stabbing each-other in the back. So he was probably a smart bigoted ass as well. One of mum's big lessons was not to underestimate people just because they had disgusting personal habits as their repulsiveness didn't prevent them from being clever. She was always saying that lessons could be learned from anyone and to never be too proud to learn.

Sabo's protests had got less frequent and more quiet the more Rayleigh talked, suggesting that he was paying attention too. What Ace was getting from his twin was more interesting though: Blaze thought that Rayleigh was doing this to Sabo so Sabo didn't make any stupid mistakes when he was older due to being irrationally prejudiced against nobles. This meant that Rayleigh was helping their brother, like Mum was helping Ace learn to keep his temper in check.

Okay, so Rayleigh cared enough about them to want to help their brother, who wasn't even related to the older man by blood or had been raised by Fox from birth like him and Luffy. Maybe he was doing it for Mum and maybe he wasn't, but Ace decided that the old geezer caring that much meant he could call the man Grandpa Ray. He was certainly less painful to learn things from than Gramps.

* * *

Sabo was happy. It came as a bit of a surprise really: he'd never expected to have a real family, never dared to hope he'd find grown-ups who would care for him. The blond had resigned himself to being an orphan in heart if not in fact, so to suddenly have a mother and five siblings –three older and two younger– along with a grandpa who was just visiting for a few weeks, was very jarring. In a nice way though. Suddenly he had brothers and sisters hugging him for no real reason, chores about the house to do, lessons to attend and a doting mother who on hearing about his dream promised to do everything she could to prepare him for when he was old enough to set out to achieve it. It was almost too much and he'd burst into tears for no reason several times in the past few weeks, which had been embarrassing. He was too old to be tearing up all the time; that was Luffy's job as the family cry-baby.

Adapting wasn't easy. Rather than curling up in his little burrow on the edge of Grey Terminal under a heap of smelly rubbish Sabo now shared a full-sized double bed with the twins, Luffy and their little sister Orchis, none of whom saw any point in wearing pyjamas. The casual nudity had taken some getting used to, though thankfully as autumn approached his new mother and big sister were more likely to be wearing yukata than skimpy bikinis –in Matsuri's case– or nothing at all. Sabo was by no means an innocent but he'd never been around people so completely unselfconscious about their bodies before and certainly had never seen a pregnant woman without any clothes on. In fact, he'd never seen any pregnant women at all before except in passing in Goa City.

Then there was the food: the twins hunted most days, bringing the carcasses back to the house to be dressed and jointed. Sabo frequently joined them and had discovered that both slightly older boys were far, far better at hunting than he was, partly due to their proficiency with haki. Now that the blond was having lessons with his new mother he was getting much better at using Observation and was finally making inroads with Armament. The animals they killed were not all that they ate however: Sabo had spent the latter half of his life scavenging at the edge of the woods and eating meat roasted over a campfire and the change to savoury stews, stir-fry dishes, baked pies and other delicious meals was heaven. He was even putting on weight, had more energy than he ever had before and the desserts were to die for!

Clothing was another change: his new mother had made him new, fitting versions of his old, tattered shorts and coat to wear and provided him with a slew of other garments, some of which were probably second-hand but most of which she had made herself. New clothes were something Sabo hadn't had since he was five and he'd forgotten how comfortable it was to wear garments that fit properly and were truly _clean_. He'd done his best in Grey Terminal, but the place was a junk heap so real cleanliness was practically impossible. Now however he could bathe every day –even twice a day if he wanted to– and there was no shortage of laundry soap for keeping his clothes clean.

Lessons… Sabo _loved_ his lessons. Okay, Luffy actually knew more than he did in some areas which was _embarrassing_ but his new family had a _library_ and he had permission to read _anything_ that was on the shelves. Anything! The twins were more interested in the technical manuals but Sabo devoured the travelogues and geography texts with a fervour that not even Luffy could match. He was learning so many new things about the world! His reading and writing skills were improving every day, as was his grasp of mathematics and navigation, he was learning useful skills like how to cook, clean, make and mend clothing, tend a garden and various other domestic necessities that he'd never really been aware of before. He was also spending two hours every afternoon learning to fight properly, which mostly involved repeating stances and moves again and again and again and _again_ as his mother repeatedly corrected him and occasionally whacked him with a stick so that he could unlearn all the bad habits he'd acquired. Orchis joined him for these sessions, though she was learning a completely different set of moves to what he was and rarely needed correcting. It would have been more frustrating to be constantly outdone by a six-year-old had Blaze not mentioned that their mother started them all on gymnastics and agility training from the moment they could walk and that Orchis had started combat training at the age of five. Orchis was currently better than Luffy, though that would probably change once the rubber boy got the hang of how take advantage of his unusual physiology.

Of course, that wasn't _all_ he was learning about. His new mother had a thorough grounding in all manner of less-than-legal skills and was happy to teach her older children to play –and cheat at– various gambling games, how to move quietly and unobtrusively, to pick locks, climb sheer walls and a variety of other things that were not illegal per se but had very few applications that were not criminal in nature, including how to lie convincingly and how to _not_ lie in ways that distracted people from the truth. That explained a lot about the twins.

He also understood now why the twins had been so reluctant to eat and run at Goa's various restaurants: they didn't want their antics to get back to their mother and possibly get her into trouble. With this in mind Sabo was curbing that habit, though it was tricky as money spent on food was money that wouldn't be going towards the eventual pirate ship. However he saw no reason to stop leading various people on merry chases across the central district of Goa City as it doubled as excellent training.

Unfortunately this proved to be a rather poor idea in the long run.

* * *

Sabo kept his mouth firmly shut as Ace dragged him through Midway Forest, Blaze behind them with Luffy on the redhead's back so the seven-year-old wouldn't slow them down. He knew the twins had some idea about his background –Blaze was scarily observant and kept no secrets from Ace– but they'd let it lie, respecting his own reluctance to say anything at all about his past. He knew Mum had definitely guessed he wasn't the gutter brat orphan he pretended to be: gutter brat orphans couldn't read and write and figure like he could, nor were they as well-spoken. Sabo may have long since succeeded in discarding his upper crust accent but he loved words and refused to abandon his vocabulary. However today his past had come back to bite him: his birth father, the nobleman he'd distanced himself from aged five out of disgust and anger, had recognised him in the street while he was running away from the watchmen after tipping a can of purple paint over a statue.

Being recognised in itself wouldn't have been so bad, except that Luffy and the twins had at that moment arrived from along a different road and overheard everything. So now that they'd cached the stolen goods Blaze and Luffy had acquired –the rubber boy was proving to have a knack for burglary, Blaze's food bribes were working– he was being dragged home so he could explain himself to the whole family. The blond was not looking forward to it.

"So what?"

Sabo blinked. He hadn't expected _that_ response from Orchis.

"I don't see that it matters," the six-year-old went on bluntly. "He's our brother now so who his parents were before is only important if he wants it to be. Can I go play now?"

The blond reeled as Fox smiled and shooed the plum-haired little girl off to spend time with her friends in the village. Luffy –similarly unconcerned by his revelation– had already wandered off in search of food but Ace and Blaze seemed to be deep in 'conversation', both slightly more focused on what was going on inside their minds that on what was in front of them. Sabo had learned not long after joining his friends' family that the twins used haki somehow to communicate with each-other without words and could do it over startling distances. Luffy claimed it was a 'twin thing' and since Blaze and Ace were the only twins Sabo had ever met the blond supposed it was possible.

"I've seen your birth father a few times around High Town," Blaze said eventually. "He's a total moron, if a moderately cunning one. Are you sure you're actually related to him and the empty-headed manikin he's married to?"

Sabo blinked, his jaw dropped and then he burst out laughing. The twins didn't care who he was related to and their casual slander of his birth parents was the funniest thing he'd heard all week.

"Seriously Sabo," Blaze went on, only the faint creasing around his eyes suggesting he was teasing his little brother, "they might have stolen you at birth or maybe the midwife swapped you after their child was born horribly deformed through excessive inbreeding. You can't possibly be related to them: you're much too nice."

"Well if you _are_ related then you certainly lucked out and inherited all the brains," Ace added drolly. "All the common sense and moral fibre too: Blaze doesn't think any of the nobles in Goa have souls anymore because they sacrificed them on the altar of money and influence."

"Petty little folk living petty little lives," Fox agreed, coming up behind them and lowering herself onto the futon. "The nobles of Goa City have no understanding of how wide and wonderful the world is, or of how little their money means on a global scale. They consider themselves elite yet to those in power they are no more significant than the people of Grey Terminal they so despise. Less so, in fact."

Sabo stared. He… to be honest he couldn't quite believe that was possible. Yes, he knew his adoptive mother wouldn't lie to him but the idea of the world being so big that Goa was no more than a footnote was just overwhelming. Was the world out there really _that_ large?

"Bigger than you can possibly imagine and more varied than you can dream of," Fox told him with a smile, reading his mind again in true parental fashion. Sabo's eyes shone. He couldn't wait to be old enough to see it for himself. "Don't worry about where you came from, Sabo sweetheart: it is only as important as you allow it to be."

Sabo beamed at his adoptive mother, who swept him up into a hug. She was right: his birth parents weren't his family. Where he was now was home.

* * *

Now that Blaze knew what Sabo had been hiding it was much easier for the redhead to trust his blond little brother. He probably would have been ashamed of his father if Shanks had been a shallow and narrow-minded fool like Outlook the third was; the only sensible thing the man had ever done in his life was not name his son after himself. However what with the nobleman now knowing Sabo was not only alive but running around with a bunch of other feral children in Grey Terminal –or so the man would think– it was in everybody's best interests for the former noble boy to stay out of Goa as much as possible. Outlook was just one man but in Goa he had power, influence and was closely enough related to the city's ruler for just about everyone who was less influential than he was to be prepared to assist him in recovering his wayward heir. So Sabo had to stay out of sight. That wasn't hard: their mum was swelling up like a balloon and needed them to do more and more of the chores because now she was entering the last three months of her pregnancy she couldn't see her feet anymore. She hadn't got this big until the very last month before Orchis was born, but Blaze supposed that having five children growing inside her was bound to need more space than just one. Even though Orchis had been quite a big baby, which was only natural really since Dad was larger than average too.

The four boys therefore decided on a system: every day one of them would stay at home to help Mum rather than go to Grey Terminal after their lessons and chores were done, so that she wouldn't work too hard. When Sabo stayed behind Blaze, Ace and Luffy would climb the walls of High Town under a veil of Concealment haki held in place by the redheaded twin, then rob selected nobles whose homes Blaze had already explored beforehand. When Ace stayed behind Blaze would take Luffy and Sabo hunting through Midway Forest to improve their skills. Luffy _still_ hadn't got the hang of his Ability but Sabo was starting to make progress with Armament and his Observation was almost good enough for the redhead to start considering the merits of teaching his younger brother about Concealment.

When Luffy stayed at home Ace would trawl Grey Terminal for useful junk while Blaze took Sabo down into the hidden parts of Goa where crime flourished under a veneer of civilisation so the blond could meet the people he'd never known were there: gamblers, conmen, racketeers, prostitutes and smugglers. Blaze recognised he had a knack for getting along with people, which he was trying to cultivate so as to make whatever he and Ace ended up doing with their lives go more smoothly. Sabo wanted to write a book about the world so Blaze thought it was important to help his little brother learn to see what was really there and how to find the people who _really_ knew what was going on. These people were the ones Blaze fenced stolen goods to after they'd cooled down a bit so the various distinctive items could be sold away from Dawn Island where they would not be recognised. Blaze made a point of not stealing truly unique items but some of the jewellery and expensive knick-knacks were more recognisable than others.

Blaze knew that when he wasn't there the three younger boys generally went hunting or hung around in Grey Terminal, Sabo and Luffy helping Ace with his scavenging and practicing their fighting. He still worried about them though, as while he had a pretty good range with Observation haki he wasn't good enough to be able to track his siblings in Grey Terminal from Fuusha Village. It was just too far away. So he worried about them when he was at home. Mum had told him time and again he didn't have to stay and help but Blaze wasn't going to leave her to do everything herself when she was over six months pregnant and already looking like she'd swallowed a watermelon whole. Dad would kill him!

* * *

Luffy was happy. He was getting to do fun stuff with his big brothers like hunt and spar and sneak around stupid rich peoples' houses for stuff to steal so they could buy a pirate ship and he could become Pirate King! Blaze was teaching him all sorts of cool stuff like how to pick out things that wouldn't get missed in a hurry, how to get into houses without getting noticed and how to be really, really quiet. It was pretty difficult but his big brother had taught him some ways to remember not to talk and he could pick locks now! He also knew where people usually hid their money and other valuable stuff and when he did well Blaze took him out to dinner to celebrate! It was awesome!

Mum was getting very big and fat now and she said it was because she had babies growing inside her, which made sense because babies had to come from somewhere. What didn't make sense was how the kitchen fridge was suddenly full of yucky things rather than yummy things. He'd tried to eat a slice of apple pie a few days ago and it had been full of pickled onions, cheese and slimy oysters rather than fruit! The only thing that wasn't weird and icky was the meat! He'd had to take apples out of the fruit bowl and rolls out of the bread bin because everything in the fridge was suspicious!

* * *

Ace knew life could not possibly get any better than this. He had his family, he was getting better at fighting and using haki with every passing day and he was learning all kinds of interesting things, both at home and from dismantling and repairing stuff he found on the junk heap. Mum was very, very big now but she wasn't due to have the babies until the end of December so she was probably going to get even bigger, which kinda bothered him. What if she burst?

Dad had laughed when he asked that one evening when he was visiting. Not laughed at him, but laughed at the idea of Mum exploding. Then Dad had explained that Mum was very, very strong and very, very stretchy so she wasn't going to explode just because she was pregnant with five babies rather than the more normal one or two. Ace had felt better for knowing that Mum was going to be okay –Dad had made him promise not to tell anyone then shared that Mum's Devil Fruit meant she was very hard to damage. Yes, that crocodile had managed but she'd been fine by the time she got back, hadn't she? Crocodiles were still evil though and all needed killing. Dad had laughed and nodded when he said that, which meant he was right about the scaly reptiles being demon-spawn.

Ace loved it when Dad visited: they did awesome stuff like going fishing and hunting together –crocodile being prominent whenever Ace got to pick what they'd be going after– singing pirate songs in the evenings and sparring. Sabo liked Dad too but his new brother was a bit more distant. It had surprised Ace to learn Sabo found Dad a bit scary. Not the good kind of scary either, which was a bit odd. Dad wasn't the bad sort of scary at all. Though he did look at Sabo strangely the first time they saw each-other. Maybe Sabo was worried Dad didn't like him? Dad loved having Sabo as a son! It was all over his face!

It was much less awesome when Garp visited, which he did much more often now. Ace preferred Grandpa Ray over Gramps, even if his more recently discovered grandparent had teased him relentlessly. Gramps didn't just spar with them, he got Mum to let him take them on so-called 'training expeditions' where he chased them through swamps and up mountains, threw trees at them and beat them up until they couldn't even _breathe_ without something hurting. Then he picked them up and carried them home, talking all the while about how they should become Marines rather than waste their lives as pirates. Ace only asked Gramps once if he'd even be allowed to be a Marine considering who his father was; the shitty old man had gone quiet then changed the subject, which Ace took as a no. He wasn't going to lie about who he was and live in terror of discovery just to make Gramps happy. He was going to be a pirate and a damn good one!

* * *

Orchis liked her new big brother. She hadn't been too sure to begin with –she did already have three after all– but he was smart and loved reading and worked really hard to get better at fighting so he was a good brother to have. He was also much better at washing regularly than Luffy was and never treated her like a baby, which made him almost her favourite brother. Nobody could ever be a more awesome big brother than Blaze though.

Sabo was also learning to use haki like she was, so Orchis spent quite a lot of time with her new big brother, mostly practicing so they could impress Mummy and make her proud of them. When Sabo stayed at home in the afternoons to help Mummy around the house Orchis sometimes helped too, fetching water from the well so Sabo could make tea, carrying trays of food into the schoolroom where Mummy spent a lot of time lying on the futon and bringing books for Sabo to read out loud so Mummy wouldn't get bored. Of course Orchis liked being read to as well, but she also liked spending time with her friends in the village so she couldn't always stay and listen.

* * *

Sabo loved his new family. He'd learned loads over the past months and his new mother loved him very much, which was strange, wonderful and slightly embarrassing. Meeting Garp had been a shock –the man's taste in clothing was _awful_ – and the training was nightmarish, but he'd been accepted instantly by the loud and relentlessly cheerful man and he cherished that acceptance despite his new Gramps' insanity. His Mum's husband was nice too, but he was very intense in a way that made Sabo uncomfortable and said massive bluet's openly affectionate relationship with the mother of his children was completely unlike anything he'd ever seen before. The ten-year-old blond was fascinated, slightly disturbed and just a little jealous of that shamelessly overt intimacy. He'd probably get used to it eventually but right now it bothered him. He'd never seen any couple acting like _that_ before!

That problem wasn't one Sabo could really share with his brothers or sisters –although Matsuri would probably understand the blond boy didn't feel comfortable confiding in her– as they thought their parents' behaviour was normal. Which it probably was for them, but Sabo knew that adults weren't normally like that. He still wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Other than that slight uncertainty however life was completely and utterly wonderful.

He should have realised it wouldn't last.

* * *

Ace wished very much that Blaze was with them right now; if Blaze had been there he wouldn't have to worry about Luffy and could just wade into the Bluejam Pirates and the men guarding the bastard noble who thought being related to Sabo by blood meant he owned their blond brother. But Blaze wasn't there, so Ace had to keep his temper and protect his littlest brother rather than crush the people trying to take their other brother away. Even when the inbred scumbag accused them is shrill, nasal tones of abducting Sabo in an attempt to get their hands on his money. The hot-tempered ten-year-old gritted his teeth, clenched his fists and breathed deliberately through his nose, letting his anger wash over him but not surrendering to it. Yes, he was _furious_ with the bastard for insinuating Sabo didn't matter to him, but Mum said most people judged others based on what they themselves would do. So Outlook III accusing him of that meant that was what the snooty noble would have done. This man didn't know him and his casual slander said more about himself than it did about Ace. Ace was _better_ than this bastard.

Then Sabo agreed to go quietly so long as his father didn't have Bluejam kill Ace and Luffy, which was nice of him but stupid. Or maybe not: Blaze could get Sabo out of High Town tomorrow if it came to it and this way Ace wouldn't have to carry Luffy in a running fight across the trash heap and into the forest, hoping to lose the pirates on the way so as not to lead them home. Mum was eight months pregnant and the doctor had made her promise to rest more, what with having got so bloated. Her belly was really, really big now and she was more emotional than Ace had ever seen her. Dad had stayed a full four days with them the previous week and spent most of the time cuddling Mum on the futon and helping her to choose names. Ace knew that by the time his birthday came around he'd have two little sisters and three little brothers, doubling the number of siblings he had already. It was a very scary thought: he was their big brother and had to look after them but Sabo and Luffy were difficult enough to care for as it was! Sabo certainly wasn't making it easy for him either!

Ace really wished Blaze was there; Blaze was the smart twin. Not that Ace was stupid, but his brain couldn't think in several directions at once like his brother's could. Blaze would have come up with a plan a while back, shared it and they'd be halfway though implementing it by now. The younger twin had agreed to help Bluejam with his 'little job' mostly because he needed to think and he thought better when he was doing things. Sabo probably wouldn't think to escape –he was using himself as a bargaining chip and hadn't really seen the true extent of what the twins could do in a fight– but getting him out would be tricky as his dumbass noble of a father would just come after them again. Ace didn't want to get Mum involved in this but if he didn't have a plan by sunset he would have to: Mum had adopted Sabo and she wouldn't let him leave without a fight, especially not when he was going to be miserable. Ace wasn't going to let his younger brother go either: Sabo was family now and family looked after each-other!

* * *

Blaze had not been expecting Uncle Dragon to visit that afternoon: Luffy's father came around once a year and had done so back in August, shortly before Grandpa Ray had found them and they'd introduced Mum to Sabo. Blaze got the impression Mum had to seriously twist Uncle Dragon's arm just to get him to visit that often, so him showing up out of the blue was probably a bad sign. However Mum didn't seen too worried: she just had him make tea, bring it into the main room for her to serve to her brother than told him to spar with Matsuri, which was a Mum way of saying she wanted a private conversation and eavesdropping would get him into trouble. Not that Blaze wouldn't eavesdrop anyway, but he wasn't good enough at doing it with haki to pick up more than generalities and emotional states and both Mum and Uncle Dragon were hard to read as it was.

By dinnertime all Blaze knew was that his uncle was disgusted and resigned about something and his mother was concerned, but for other people rather than for herself. Mum often felt like that when she was worried about him and his brothers, Sabo included. Mum also felt a bit like Dad, but he'd come to realise that was normal. Mum felt a little bit like Dad and Dad felt a little bit like Mum, how much varied but it was always there. So maybe it was Dad who was worried about what Dragon had told her rather than Mum. Mum wasn't much of a worrier really: she either did something about what was bothering her or else decided it was out of her hands and waited for the situation to either resolve itself or for it to change into something she _could_ fix. Often she didn't interfere with things she could actually have fixed because nobody had asked her to help, which was a bit mean but actually helpful as it meant they all knew that it they ever needed help she _would_ help if asked. Mum _always_ helped if you asked her to help, but if you didn't ask she assumed you wanted to fix it by yourself. Learning to ask had been difficult, as had learning what kind of situations Mum would interfere in regardless and which she would wait on, but Blaze had a handle on it now.

Unlike his mother however Blaze _was_ a worrier and right now he was worried about his little brothers, who should all have been home by now.

"Mum?" he asked, "Is it okay of I go looking for Ace, Sabo and Luffy? They should be back by now." He couldn't even sense them, which meant they weren't at the base in Midway Forest either. He couldn't sense much further than that but he knew Mum could.

"Luffy and Ace are in Grey Terminal but Sabo's in Goa," Mum said absently as she divided up the leftover food into large portions and put them in bentos. "Do take this with you when you go, Blaze sweetie: your brothers need to eat after all. I'm sure they've just forgotten to keep an eye on the time. Ace does get caught up sometimes and Luffy never notices it's late until he gets hungry."

Blaze dashed off to get his shoes then came back for the food his mother had finished wrapping up for him. It was true that when Blaze wasn't with his brothers they were more likely to be late, but Blaze had a bad feeling about today. It might have been due to Uncle Dragon sitting at the table when he wasn't due to visit for another two months at least or it might have been the vague sense of _something_ he was getting from his twin despite the distance; whatever it was Blaze wanted to be where his brothers were, just in case.

"It'll probably be too late for you to bring everybody home in time for bedtime so you can camp up in the woods tonight," Mum said, kissing him on the cheek before he ran off out the door. "Dragon's leaving first thing in the morning as this was just a flying visit: he's got business in the area and decided to stop by and check up on me."

"Yes Mum." Blaze knew this meant Mum didn't want him mentioning their uncle's presence to Luffy or indeed anybody else, except possibly Ace if he could get his twin in private. That was fine by him; he was pretty sure that whatever his uncle did it wasn't at all legal, so keeping quiet about it was important.

With this in mind he shouldered the bentos and hared off up into the woods, sword and hachiwara threaded through his sash. Hopefully he was just being paranoid.


	16. Fire

Back from my holidays! I had a great time and feel a good kind of tired.

* * *

 **Fire**

It would have been nice, Blaze thought grumpily, if his worries _had_ been just paranoia. Unfortunately they hadn't been: Sabo had been kidnapped by his sorry excuse for a biological parent and was likely back in the mansion in High Town he'd been born in. Listening to Ace's frustrated tale of events with Luffy chiming in every now and then Blaze wanted to bang his head against something, but he recognised that none of his brothers had his gift for strategy, either long-term or on the fly. They didn't think like he did. Luffy had a knack for seeing to the heart of a matter that would likely take him to all kinds of interesting and perilous places when he was older, but right now it just made him a loudmouth without the power to back up his talk. Ace had come a long way in learning to keep his temper but he wasn't all that good at improvising. Yes, Blaze knew both he and his twin would get better at dealing with this kind of thing once they were older and stronger, but knowing that wasn't much use to them right now.

"I really don't like the sound of Bluejam's 'big job'," the redhead admitted. "Why would he be leaving crates all over Grey Terminal where anybody might steal them? Unless what's in them isn't worth stealing, in which case what is it and why's he being paid to leave them lying around?"

Ace frowned, mentally going back over the crates' weight, heft, the sounds they'd made and how their contents had shifted as he carried them. "There were containers of liquid packed in straw in some of them," the brunet twin said slowly, "and some of the others contained stacks of things that scraped against each-other. They were awkward rather than heavy, mostly: even Luffy could lift them."

Both older boys pondered this. Luffy's new rubber state had eroded a lot of his lifting strength, as his arms would stretch rather than lift. He was gradually getting it back but it still wasn't what it once was.

"Are we going to get Sabo back?" Luffy asked hopefully.

"Of course we are: he's our brother, no matter what he said!" Blaze said firmly. "Sabo was supposed to be with Mum tomorrow though, so I'm going to have to take his place back at the house. The day after is Luffy's day though, so I can investigate then. I can't just abduct him: the idiot noble will just come after Sabo again. We'll have to make it look like Sabo had a fatal accident."

Luffy looked excited. "We get to fake his death? Like in stories?" The rubber boy bounced up and down in energetic glee. "Yay!"

"First though we have to sleep," Blaze said firmly, catching his twin's eye and smiling in shared relief at their baby brother's renewed cheer. "We can't plan a rescue if we're too tired to think." He'd need to get Mum's advice too: Sabo was her son as well as their brother and she was really good at cunning plans.

* * *

When her boys came in for breakfast without Sabo Fox knew exactly what had happened: Spadille's memories of the parallel situation that had occurred back when he'd been ten had been very prominent in both their minds in the past month and her beloved Kajin's nerves had only gotten worse after Dragon had showed up at the house yesterday to tell her about the planned fire. Being eight months pregnant Fox couldn't do as much as she would have liked about that, but she had been able to supply her brother with information and medical supplies that he'd doubtless find useful, as well as telling him about various people who lived within the walls of Goa City who'd be willing to offer him a little surreptitious assistance as every bit would help. She'd also described Sabo and asked him to keep an eye out for the boy.

That however was not enough to calm Spadille's nerves: bad enough that Fox was heavily pregnant and had barely half her normal mobility –though her Kajin knew very well that even completely immobilised she could defend herself thanks to her Devil Fruit and long hair– but he wanted to make sure that the Sabo in this dimension grew up with Ace rather than apparently dying and horribly upsetting those left behind. Fox couldn't really stalk the young blond though, having her unborn babies and other four children to care for, so last week Spadille had decided to move his crew into East Blue until after she'd given birth and the quins were weaned. Then he would set out for the Grand Line. Fox knew her Kajin's plan to take the Grand Line by storm was partly dependent on Sakazuki getting his promotion to Admiral within the next year, but the information her Kajin was stealing on his regular visits to Marine Headquarters –wearing uniforms of gradually increasing rank for added verisimilitude– suggested that the lava logia was being tipped for promotion and would ascend to a higher rank as soon as there was space at the top for him to do so. Borsalino had already been promoted just six months previously, so Fox was positive Sakazuki would be joining him soon enough.

Of course, chaos theory suggested that even the smallest changes could have disproportionate effects on their surroundings, but human nature dictated that people were highly unlikely to act against their natures. Fox was pretty sure that, while there'd been numerous small changes in what had come to pass since she'd been dumped in this reality, the overreaching realities had not changed. Yes, Nico Robin having vanished completely had prompted all kinds of interesting tizzies among the Marine forces in West Blue but that had barely lasted a year before things had settled down again. 'The Devil's Child' was officially missing but nobody really cared about one teenager, no matter how high her bounty; there were people who thought she had died and the Gorosei were happy to belive the 'threat' of Ohara was 'neutralised'. Yes, Spadille's breaking up of several slaving gangs and removal of several would-be slaves had caused a minor local commotion on Sabaody but it was long forgotten now. In fact, the greatest change she and her husband had caused was through creating their world-wide network of contacts that was positively thriving, trading information and facilitating smuggling. Attached to this was the progress being made in the establishment of Dragon's Revolutionary Army, which wasn't yet an army but rather a collection of people all over the globe, whom Dragon visited in his very stylish ship. Now they actually had a steady source of funding from printing several of her books they were making much faster progress than before and were laying the groundwork for future campaigns. Fox knew her brother would make the world tremble in the face of his ambitions and felt no guilt at all in hurrying matters along a little. The World Government would be doing their utmost to preserve the status quo so putting a little more pressure on them would allow more to slip through the cracks in their attention, as it were.

Spadille's crew had spent the past year in South Blue doing 'honest' work –mostly smuggling in the Mecha area– improving their combat skills and learning to use haki. They'd also picked up a few new crewmembers, namely an engineer to care for the Morning Glory's small engine and a couple of skilled hands. Neither of the hands were anything special but both Mason and Badger were diligent, street-smart and loyal and that was more than enough. Her Kajin had enough prima-donnas in his crew already. They were also musical, which was probably why Spadille had picked those two specifically. The engineer on the other hand was supremely disinterested in everything except engines to the point that her husband's habitual twisted teasing had gone right over his head, which after a moment's confusion Spadille had decided was funny and he had promptly offered the man a job. His obsessive obliviousness aside, Nathan was the most normal guy on board out of the specialists. He also didn't care what shape, size, colour or gender the other members of the crew were so long as they didn't trespass in his domain and had fitted into the crew as though he'd always been there. Making him learn haki had been difficult, but he'd picked up Observation once he realised it would make it easier for him to diagnose engine problems. He wasn't getting anywhere with Armament though, probably because he didn't care. Hopefully her husband would be able to get him up to scratch in the coming year.

Kissing Ace and Luffy goodbye after lunch, Fox hoped they'd be alright. If they weren't she was prepared to hurry to the rescue, but she'd prefer it didn't come to that. Her Kajin would completely freak out at her doing something like that when over-exertion might result in her giving birth prematurely; he'd never quite managed to be truly calm when she was expecting since her rather disastrous second pregnancy –surviving giving birth to a D's child was generally impossible unless the mother was a D herself and the experience had nearly killed her in spite of her Devil Fruit Ability– and Zoro not being here to settle him and point out how ridiculous his concerns were made everything worse.

* * *

As the sun set over the sea, Spadille sat on the top of Great Gate that separated Edge Town from Grey Terminal, his boots dangling over the void and his hands caressing the yari lying across his lap. He was pretty sure that Luffy and Ace would be alright out on the trash heap, even if they got caught in the fire: Blaze had snuck out of the house instead of going to bed and the redhead had a knack for this kind of thing even though he was only eleven. Fox was also taking steps to intervene if it proved necessary, though he rather hoped it wouldn't as the bluet did not like the idea of his heavily pregnant wife fighting pirates. Not that he could stop her; her hormones were sending her moods all over the place and Zoro's prolonged absence was starting to noticeably affect her equilibrium. Nothing particularly obvious to an external observer, but her patience for people threatening her family had shortened to the point of nonexistence and she wasn't giving out many second chances anymore. Not that she was overly generous with them in the first place, but she at least maimed the idiot in question so it was still possible to extract information from them; now however she'd be going straight for the kill.

Spadille would have offered to rescue Ace and Luffy himself, but Fox knew it was Sabo who he was most worried about and had all but ordered him to bring her blond son home while she ensured the Bluejam Pirates ceased to threaten her family. The bluet could have insisted, but Fox did need to kill something or someone or else she'd snap and that would be very messy indeed, too messy to hide from the authorities. So Fox would be slaughtering the pirates attempting to take advantage of her sons while Spadille kept an eye on their latest adopted child until it was possible to properly fake the blond's death.

Hopefully nothing too drastic would go wrong.

* * *

Spadille had not liked fire very much back when he was a kid and eating the Mera-Mera Fruit in his late teens had not actually increased his fondness for it all that much. Yes, he'd been _made_ of fire after that but he'd had serious identity issues anyway and a love-hate relationship with his Ability and body had meshed with his existing problems so well that nobody had ever noticed. He hadn't really started to appreciate how incredible fire was until after Fox had saved him, changed him and started teaching him to think. Spadille had then really investigated his Devil Fruit Ability in earnest and he'd come to appreciate fire for its versatility and power. He still respected it for its destructive potential but he didn't cling to the bad memories associated with it. Fire just was. It wasn't evil or even good: what he chose to do with it was up to him. He could do frivolous things with it like curling hair or needed things like being a living heater in winter. Spadille recognised that he'd done a number of really wrong things with his Ability in the past, such as burning down an entire island while he'd been a Hawk-Eye Pirate –because he had been part of a Shichibukai's crew and therefore obliged to obey the order coming down from on high no matter that the 'crew' part had been a convenient legal fiction so he could overtly protect Fox during her pregnancy– but that didn't mean he was evil either. He was just human like everyone else.

Watching the inferno raging on the rubbish tip made him angry though, and not just because of the reason _why_ the local nobility had paid the Bluejam Pirates to set it all on fire; it was just so _wasteful_. All the things the nobility had broken were easily repaired if you had the skills, or at least had salvageable parts. The food waste could be composted and used on gardens or farms, which Dawn Island had no shortage of being mostly farmland. Farmers might even _pay_ for the food waste! Empty bottles and boxes could be reused and so many things were thrown out simply because they had become 'unfashionable' it was ridiculous! The nobles may have been the main perpetrators of this, but the attitude persisted in the rest of the port town since the locals mindlessly idolised and emulated the nobility as much as they possibly could.

Of course a good part of why he was angry was that Ace and Luffy were out there somewhere, but Fox was on the case and Spadille very much doubted even one of the Bluejam Pirates would live to see the dawn. He had a plan for their ship too –which he'd already stolen– though he'd have to replace the rather pretentious figurehead. Not that he wanted it for himself –his former Marine vessel suited him just fine for the time being and the Sea Stone coating the hull was very useful since even though he knew how to handle potential Sea King threats, his crew didn't– but with a bit of refitting he could probably flog it to Dragon and make a small profit even if he sold it for considerably less than it was worth.

Spadille kept an eye on the commotion going on in the street below him, then slipped down off the top of the gate as he sensed Dragon approaching. His brother-in-law _would_ notice him regardless of whether he was using Concealment haki because Dragon had a knack for Observation that bordered on the uncanny, so the fire logia intended to lurk in the shadows between the buildings, where the presence of other loiterers would mask his presence. Dragon would be expecting people to be hiding in the alleyways –those loitering there were either lucky to be inside the city today or just far enough above the ones caught outside to not have to live off garbage– so one more blurry presence wouldn't prompt the revolutionary to investigate further. Tricking a person into not noticing you when they were as good at Observation as his brother-in-law was all about playing to their expectations.

* * *

Getting untied after being double-crossed by the Bluejam Pirates had been easy as pie: Concealment might have been Blaze's thing but Ace was good enough to make people who couldn't use haki not notice the knives he wore inside his shorts. Getting off the burning trash heap however was much more difficult, especially when he had Luffy to look out for. The brunet was also stewing furiously about getting tied up in the first place. They'd found out in the early evening that Bluejam meant to burn Grey Terminal to the ground and had tried to escape to warn the locals, but the pirates had caught Luffy so Ace had been forced to go back for his little brother. However on returning he'd had to let himself be tied up so Bluejam wouldn't slit Luffy's throat. Ace would have liked to do violence to the bastard pirate but Bluejam had seen him reduce five of his crew –none of whom were small or weak– to broken, moaning heaps of flesh and had taken precautions. The man at least had a modicum of honour: Bluejam could have gone ahead and slit Luffy's throat after tying up Ace but he hadn't, settling for tying Luffy up as well. Ace respected the pirate just a tiny bit for that shred of integrity. So Ace had waited for the pirates to leave the area before retrieving one of his trench knives from his waistband and cutting the ropes.

Actually escaping through the raging fire was much more difficult though. Ace could sense Blaze getting closer but wasn't sure his twin would actually be able to reach them through the raging flames. He'd thought Grey Terminal smelled bad on a normal day; it smelled even worse when it was on fire and the heat was tremendous. Keeping an eye on Luffy and trying to work out which would be the best direction to escape in was taking up all of Ace's attention so he was rather surprised to come across the Bluejam Pirates. Luffy's comment that, as the instigators of the fire, they should have left ages ago was tactless but essentially accurate, so Ace guessed something had gone wrong. Maybe their ship had caught on fire or something. Remembering that rather tacky ship –he'd never model his ship's figurehead after himself when _he_ was a pirate even though he had no idea what he'd want his own ship to look like yet– reminded the brunet that the sea wasn't all that far away and despite Luffy not being able to swim, it would still be the best direction to retreat in. Unfortunately Bluejam seemed to have gone crazy and was more interested in their treasure than escaping.

"You're worrying about treasure when your lives are in danger?!" Ace couldn't help blurting out in disbelief. Treasure was far less valuable than lives!

"By that logic, why wouldn't you tell us, hm?" Bluejam pointed out.

It seemed logical, but Ace was smarter than that and had spotted the fallacy: telling Bluejam would not be enough and the pirate would want to be led to the treasure, which would further reduce their chances of survival. Besides, the treasure was in the woods and not in Grey Terminal at all. He glanced around at the pirates surrounding him and Luffy, trying to orientate himself. The sea _should_ be over that way, but it was hard to tell what with all the smoke and fire obscuring all the landmarks he usually used when navigating the junk. Observation haki helped –Goa City was obviously _that_ way– but not as much as he'd hoped it would.

"If you're not gonna go collect it, then it'll all go to waste," Bluejam added. Ace ignored him, scowling blackly as he tried to think. Blaze wasn't going to get here for a while anyway so he needed to stall without Luffy getting hurt.

"Don't be stupid!" Luffy shouted at Bluejam from behind Ace. "That's the treasure that Ace and Blaze and Sabo-"

"-Alright, I'll tell you," Ace interrupted his little brother before the rubber-brain could blab any more secrets. Of course he was going to lie through his teeth, but there were a few old caches in Grey Terminal that they used as temporary stashes for times when they had too much stuff to move all at once. Telling Bluejam about those would kill some time.

"But you two and Sabo worked your asses off for-!" Luffy started, but Ace interrupted him again before he could give anything else away.

"I'm sure Sabo will understand and Blaze would agree with me anyway," the brunet twin said firmly. "All that matters now is our own survival." Not that he trusted Bluejam to leave them alive even if he _did_ tell the man the truth, he added within his own mind as he slipped a hand into the back of his waistband to loosen his knifes.

* * *

Luffy had thought Ace was giving away their treasure for no reason, then he realised his big brother was telling Bluejam all the places they _had_ hidden treasure in but were mostly empty now. The seven-year-old therefore closed his mouth so he didn't give the game away and tried to think about other things, like if Mum was worried about them not coming home for dinner and whether she would come looking for them. Luffy knew Mum was the strongest person he knew, even stronger than both Gramps _and_ Shanks, because he'd seen her beat both of them. Not in a proper fight, but winning was winning and neither man had tried to continue the fight further. If Mum could show up out of nowhere to rescue Orchis-chan from mountain bandits and punch Gramps through a tree for hitting Ace, then she could rescue them from a fire, even if she was huge and pregnant now. He'd seen her walk with her hair before.

Then Bluejam started saying mean things about Sabo and Ace started shouting at him about how Sabo wasn't like that and the meanie pirate pointed a gun at him. Luffy struggled, trying to get the nasty pirate holding him to let go and then bit him on the arm. The pirate cursed and dropped him, then drew his sword. Luffy managed to avoid being seriously injured, but the length of pipe he'd tried to protect himself with was cut in half and his face was cut open right over his right eye. The seven-year-old whimpered, doing his best not to cry –Ace didn't like it when he cried– and clutched at the cuts, trying to hold them closed. He wasn't sure what happened next, but Ace shouted,

"Don't you dare touch Luffy!"

And everything went quiet. Well, not completely quiet as there was still the sound of fire roaring and things burning, but no more pirate sounds. Luffy opened his working eye to look around and saw that all the pirates except Bluejam had fallen over foaming at the mouth. Bluejam himself had stomped on Ace and was pointing a gun in his face. Ace was good with Armament haki but Luffy didn't know if that meant he would be safe if someone shot him.

"Ace?" he shouted, trying to roll over so he could do something, even just distract the meanie pirate so Ace could escape.

There was a soft sound, like when Makino cleared her throat because she was trying to get people to pay attention to her in a polite way. Then Bluejam's head fell off, bouncing off across the rubbish next to Ace. Luffy stared as the pirate's body crumpled sideways, the gun that had been pointed at Ace dropping to the ground. Behind where Bluejam had been was Mum, cleaning a sword on a handkerchief. She was wearing all white, which made it difficult to see her amongst the tall flames. Even her hair was wrapped in white bandages and she had white sandals on her feet.

"Are you alright Ace, Luffy?" she asked, walking over to haul Ace to his feet as Blaze appeared from somewhere to pick up Luffy and get a closer look at his injury.

"I'm fine Mum," Ace said a little shakily, "but Luffy's face needs looking at. He got cut."

Mum chuckled. "On your face again Luffy? Let me have a look." She sheathed the sword in her sash and waddled over, her footsteps heavy and cautious on the shifting garbage. Luffy almost burst into tears in relief as her gentle touch made all the pain go away and closed the wound.

"Now we really should go before all these pirates wake up again," Mum said firmly, leading the way off through the flames.

"Bluejam isn't going to be waking up," Blaze muttered, his tone vindictively satisfied. Luffy didn't say anything but clutched tightly onto Mum's hakama as they hurried away towards the woods. Mum had come and rescued them, just like before. Mum was really awesome; she probably even had a plan for getting Sabo back!

* * *

It had taken Dragon a few minutes to connect the crying noble child denouncing his city's ways with his sister's description of her recently adopted son, but on recognising that this unhappy boy was Fox's missing Sabo the revolutionary found himself slightly at a loss. He should probably take the boy on board his ship and then deliver him to his sister later, but after picking up the survivors of the Grey Terminal fire Dragon intended to sail away at once, the strong wind carrying them west and as far from Goa as possible. Fuusha however lay to the south and detouring that way would cost them valuable time as well as put his crew at risk. Nonetheless, leaving the boy here was unthinkable and not just because his sister would skin him alive for it.

"Oh, I understand," Dragon said softly to the sobbing boy, pitching his voice so it would not carry far in the roaring of the wind and fire coming from just beyond the city walls. "I too was born here in this country! But I still do not have the power to change the ways of this land!"

"Mister, you really believe me?" the boy who was probably called Sabo quavered as Dragon helped him to his feet.

"Yes; I will not forget your words," Dragon promised quietly. A city that could bring a child to be ashamed of being born was truly a cesspool, no matter how attractive a façade it held up. The burning of Grey Terminal was just more proof of the ugliness hidden behind the clean streets and well-dressed citizens.

"Dragon! Ve have completed the preparations!" Ivankov called out from behind him.

"Good," Dragon said absently, trying to think of a suitable course of action. Taking Sabo with him might be his only option, much as he'd prefer an alternative.

"Nice night for a stroll under the stars, don't you think?"

Dragon stiffened and behind him the Okama King swore quietly as a very large figure emerged from the shadows between two buildings and ambled over, hands shoved in pockets and the raging firelight painting ruddy shadows over broad shoulders, defined muscles and a top hat tilted at a jaunty angle.

"Spadille," Dragon said, relaxing slightly as he sensed that this really was his brother-in-law. The man was certainly unique and a much better option than taking Sabo away with him for however many months it would be before he could feasibly swing back to Fuusha for a visit.

The massive blue-haired man tapped the brim of his hat in mock-politeness. "Fancy meeting you here; seeing the sights?" As his deep rumbling voice briefly filled the street the young blond boy jerked, turned and stared.

"But, but _how_?" the child rasped, rubbing his eyes.

Spadille propped his hands on his hips and raised an eyebrow. "What'cha doin' here, Sabo-kun? Your Mum's been worried sick and that's not good for her in her current condition. The boys miss you too and my little girl's complaining about not having anyone to talk about her books to."

"But, but…" Sabo said weakly.

"You're family now, brat," the bluet said fondly. "Don't you worry about what the nobles will think; leave that to me, hm?" He stepped closer and picked up the blond's hat from where it lay on the cobbles, tossing it up and down with one hand.

Sabo sniffed, seemingly frozen in place. Spadille's expression softened. "C'mon kid: time to go home."

Sabo promptly launched himself at the massive man, who scooped up the boy with his free hand and hugged him close, rocking slightly on his feet and crooning. The bluet nodded respectfully to Dragon then turned to walk back down the street, carrying Sabo off towards the northern wall and the farthest edge of the flames.

"Vat vas Spadille doing here?" Ivankov asked quietly as Dragon turned his back on his brother-in-law and hurried down towards the docks. "And vat is his interest in zat boy?" The Okama King had been curious about the mysterious bluet ever since Inazuma had joined the Revolutionary Army and that curiosity had only increased after Spadille had visited him on Momoiro with the teenage girl he called 'little Albatross'. Dragon hadn't shared his relationship with Fox and how that connected him to Spadille with anyone in his organisation but he suspected Inazuma knew anyway; Spadille had likely mentioned his wife at some point or other. Not that the quiet Scissor Paramecia had said anything to anyone one way or the other on the subject, though the reserved okama did persistently refer to Spadille as 'captain'.

"If it becomes relevant to the cause Spadille will let us know," Dragon said shortly as they boarded his ship. "Now we have more pressing matters to attend to."

* * *

Faking Sabo's demise was rather easy: Spadille artistically burned the boy's hat, consuming half its body but leaving the goggles mostly intact, then dropped it on the walkway that ran all the way around the wall surrounding Goa City.

"There: your father will find the hat and think you tried to escape through the fire. He may organise a search of the trash heap in a few days' time but you're going to be staying in Fuusha and he won't think to look there," Spadille said cheerfully to the boy tucked under his arm. "I doubt any of the nobility even realise Fuusha exists, well other than the guy who the villagers pay taxes to and even then he may well see that kind of thing as his steward's business rather than his own."

Sabo twisted so he could look up at the large bluet's face. "Why did you come looking for me?" he asked.

Spadille smiled. "Fox and I see you as our own son, Sabo-kun. Why wouldn't we come after you? We want you to be happy and you'd made it very clear that you weren't happy in Goa. What kind of parents would we be if we left you here to suffer?"

"I…" Sabo sniffed, "I was going to go to sea…"

"Well, you still can go to sea when you're older but I really doubt my wife is going to let you out of her sight for several months at the very least after this fiasco," Spadille said dryly. "Now I think it's time I got you back to her, so let's get going."

Sabo stared out across the ocean of fire. "How?" He asked.

Spadille grinned, bouncing on his toes. "We're going to fly, Sabo-kun."

* * *

Hiking up through Midway Forest to their campsite was more dreary than stressful for Blaze. He was exhausted after a long day full of hard work and worry and the adrenaline of helping rescue his twin and little brother from the massive fire that had engulfed Grey Terminal had faded away to leave him struggling to put one foot in front of the other. Luffy was fast asleep slung over Mum's shoulder and Ace was leaning on Blaze as heavily as Blaze was leaning on him, the two twins just about managing between them not to trip over roots and run into things. Blaze didn't even have it in him to worry about Sabo, though he'd sensed their newest brother moving around inside Edge Town. He wasn't worrying because he'd also sensed Uncle Dragon, which was probably Mum's cunning plan for getting Sabo out of Goa. If it wasn't… well Mum would deal with everything tomorrow. The World Nobles weren't due to arrive until the end of the week anyway so they had time.

As they stumbled into the campsite in front of the roughly repaired house Mum picked up both him and Ace with her white-wrapped braids and carried them into the building. Blaze barely had time to glimpse piled-up furs and feel softness against his face as Mum put him down before exhaustion overtook him.

* * *

Sabo curled up in the very empty-feeling double bed next to the sleeping form of his little sister Orchis. Even though Spadille was crashed out behind him, taking up half the mattress with his feet sticking off the end of the bed, it still didn't feel right without Blaze, Ace and Luffy piling on top of him with their breathing lulling him into dreamland. According to his adoptive father Fox and the boys were sleeping up at the house in the woods and would be back in the morning, but that didn't make sleeping any easier. Part of Sabo wished Spadille had taken him up to the place in the woods too, but common sense recognised that the massive man wouldn't want to leave Matsuri and Orchis alone all night with nobody else in the house to look after them even if his wife was at the stage in her pregnancy where she really needed more looking after than the girls. So he just had to be grown-up about it and deal. Besides, cuddling his five-year-old sister made it much easier to sleep than it had been in his big, silent and empty four-poster bed in High Town.

Still not quite believing that he had managed once more to escape the suffocating environs of Goa City, Sabo closed his eyes and let sleep overtake him. If this was a dream it had ended up a very nice one. He could have done without the fire.

Sabo awoke the next morning to Luffy bouncing on the bed, which convinced him in pretty short order that no, he _hadn't_ been dreaming. Especially considering Luffy's lack of coordination meant the blond got trodden on by his rubber sibling in the younger boy's exuberance to wake him up. However after a teary but manly reunion with the rest of the family over breakfast Sabo found himself faced with a fact of family life he had never before encountered:

"Grounded?" he repeated dumbly, staring at Fox in confusion.

"Yes," the heavily pregnant woman he was coming to view as his mother repeated sternly, "grounded. All four of you boys are grounded for two weeks for not immediately bringing this matter to my attention, as it was very clearly an _adult_ matter and therefore something you should have told me about at _once_. Sabo too, despite his not being able to tell me about it, for running away from home," she amended as the curly-topped blond boy opened his mouth to protest that he hadn't been _able_ to tell her about it. "Sabo, Luffy and Ace all have a further two weeks grounding for recklessly endangering their lives in the fire and Sabo has another two weeks on top of _that_ for making us all worry so much."

Sabo blinked, registering that he was grounded for _six weeks_ , Luffy and Ace for four and Blaze for two.

"That's not fair!" Luffy protested hotly.

"Life isn't fair Luffy," Fox said matter-of-factly, "but you are no less grounded for that. Have any of you boys any idea how worried Spadille and I have been?" Tears welled up in her eyes as she spoke, cheeks and nose reddening faintly as one hand clutched at her swollen abdomen. "Any number of terrible things could have happened to you and I wouldn't have been able to get there in time!"

Ace led the rush to hug his distraught mother, all four boys mobbing her as carefully as was feasible. As the hubbub and tears subsided Sabo finally got to ask the question that was, to his mind, most important here:

"What does 'being grounded' entail?"


	17. Last

**Last**

Zoro had just finished putting together the sword he'd spent the past three weeks forging for his youngest son, who would be turning fifteen within the month and needed a proper blade, when Fox ran into trouble. Trouble his wife was having trouble with was the worst kind, especially if it was bothersome enough that she felt the need to call on _both_ of them for help. The greenet swordsman-turned-swordsmith swore quietly under his breath, sheathed the new blade and quickly shoved his three infamous swords through his sash with his other hand, keeping the newly forged and as yet unnamed katana firmly gripped in his fist. The blade hadn't quite 'settled' yet, but it was a fine black blade and much more inflexible than he'd initially thought it would be, which just showed he still had a long way to go in becoming a master swordsmith. Its name would come to him in time and then he could entrust the blade to the boy he'd adopted all those years ago after finding him digging through a bin in a back alley aged three.

Fully armed and having previously instructed his assistants in how to cool the forge down in his absence, Zoro made a beeline for the door: Fox needed him. He was just pinning an errant lock of hair back as he trotted outside when alarm echoed down their bond and his wife seemed to fade away. Zoro instantly threw himself after Fox down the mental link: he wasn't letting _anything_ take her away from him!

* * *

Kuina sat on the veranda that ran all the way around her father's dojo, staring up at the full moon with tears drying on her cheeks and a massive smile on her face. She had thought Roronoa Zoro was just stubborn, but he was honourable too and had encouraged her to not abandon her dream. He was the only person to have ever done so: her own father assumed she would soon stop fighting in the dojo and settle down to raise a family, hopefully providing him with grandsons to hand to dojo on to. She would have settled for that before, but no longer: she _would_ become the greatest swordswoman in the world and not just sit back and let Zoro surpass her!

The indigo-haired eleven-year-old rose to her feet and turned to go back inside; she was too excited to sleep right now but she could clean, polish and sharpen the dojo's swords, which would calm her. However before she could go more than a few steps the ground shuddered beneath her feet and there was a hissing roar that sounded awfully familiar to Kuina's ears: her grandfather had been killed by a landslide when she was six and that sound had haunted her nightmares ever since. Had the coastal road collapsed?

Kuina ran pell-mell across the field, heedless of the aftershocks as she dashed down the road that led to the port below Shimotsuki Village. Zoro was on that road!

She didn't get very far before her path was cut off by the landslip, a mass of earth and rocks higher than the dojo was tall swamping the road and rattling down the cliff to her right. Above the landslide was a raw scar in the hillside, grass and trees replaced by sandy soil and loose rocks. As Kuina stared in horror another large rock slipped out off the newly formed cliff, rolled downwards and off the side of the island, a distant splash indicating it had fallen into the sea.

 _Zoro is underneath that._ Kuina didn't fool herself hoping her rival and newfound friend had gone far enough down the road to avoid being crushed; the greenet didn't walk very quickly when he was brooding. If by some miracle Zoro _wasn't_ under the landslide it would be because he'd been swept off the cliff and was even now being pounded against the rocks by the high tide. She hiccupped, tears welling up in her eyes.

There was another clattering rattle and more rocks rolled off the cliff edge as the debris settled, then another. Kuina hastily backed up, not wanting to be crushed should the slope in front of her prove unstable. It was only when a large rock bounced _up_ from midway along the mound that she realised the movement wasn't natural. Was there someone _alive_ under there? Alive, uninjured and strong enough to shift entire boulders? Zoro perhaps? She'd heard his friends say he trained by lifting boulders, but probably not ones so large as she could see sticking out of the mass of rubble covering the road.

East Blue might have been the weakest sea, but Kuina had heard enough stories about pirates and Devil Fruit to recognise that she might be in danger so she backed up further, all the way to the bend in the road so she could fade back into the tree line. Her white shirt still glowed in the moonlight, but less obviously under the shade of the trees.

The landslide shuddered again, more material sliding off the cliff as the heap sagged in the middle like a loaf removed from the oven too early. The crater deepened and widened until Kuina finally saw something climbing out of the middle of the depression, about man-sized and making audibly irritated sounds.

Then the moon emerged from behind a wisp of cloud and shone down brightly on the scene before her and Kuina's breath caught in her throat.

The man carefully descending the side of the loose earthen mound was solidly built and heavily scarred, his haori hanging down the back of his legs to his calves from where it was held in place around his waist rather than being worn properly. Black leather trousers tucked into heavy black boots and a green harimaki completed the picture, though there was also a black scrap of something fastened securely around one heavily-muscled upper arm. Kuina had never seen anybody that muscular in her life, not even the village smith!

It wasn't the muscles that closed her throat and made her hands tremble though: the stranger had long, mint-green hair falling untidily out of a bun high on the back of his head and a broad, scowling face so much like Zoro's that it hurt to look at him. Her rival had never mentioned family at all, but that didn't mean Zoro hadn't had any. Was this his father?

The grumbling got more coherent as the strange man slid down the scree onto the road and adjusted the swords shoved through his sash with one hand, the other tightly fisted around another katana. What kind of man carried four swords? Kuina strained her ears, then blushed scarlet at the man's language. She'd heard quite a bit of bad language from men coming to the dojo to challenge her father, but _this_... Kuina shook her head, trying to dislodge the profanity settling in her brain.

The stranger's words halted, his head jerked up and he looked right at her, the moonlight clearly shining upon his face and firmly outlining his uncanny resemblance to her rival. Late rival. It also shone on the blood trickling from his temple, down the side of his neck and spattered across his trousers and haori as his eyes rolled up in the back of his head and he crumpled forwards without another sound. Startled out of her frozen stupor Kuina hurried forwards to check on him. She would have to fetch her father, she realised: the stranger was far too heavy for her to move by herself.

His presence here and uncanny resemblance to Zoro would have to wait, though if he had survived the landslide maybe, just maybe her rival had too? Kuina desperately hoped so.

* * *

Finding himself under a descending avalanche was not the worst thing that had ever happened to Zoro while chasing after Fox, though it was a first. However his wife was not anywhere in the immediate vicinity, which meant he'd got turned around somehow and _that_ was _definitely_ a first as up until now Fox's teleportation power only worked to bring him or Spadille to her side. However there wasn't much he could do while the hillside was falling on top of him so Zoro simply Hardened his bones and muscles and waited for everything to settle sufficiently for him to be able to dig himself out. Amateurs would have hardened their skin, but Zoro had learned that hardening the subcutaneous tissues worked better as it allowed the body to retain a greater degree of flexibility as well as being more resistant to damage from other Haki users. Skilled Haki users could hit hard and fast enough to cause shockwaves within their target, which could easily get past a skin-deep haki barrier to damage internal organs. An insect's exoskeleton didn't protect the bug from being squashed if enough pressure was brought to bear on it after all. Luffy, being rubber, had always Hardened all of his body tissues indiscriminately but normal people couldn't do that successfully without a great deal of practice. Of course, not hardening his skin meant that his use of Armament was invisible to the eye –an advantage– but damage to skin inevitably occurred as a result –a disadvantage. Being able to heal quickly and cleanly due to his soul-deep connection to his beloved wife, Zoro considered the disadvantages to be negligible. Scrapes and cuts were messy, but no more than that.

Of course, digging out of a landslide when you have a new sword in one hand is not as easy as it might be, but Zoro wasn't going to put the blade down or even thread it through his sash; it wasn't his sword, wasn't even named yet and until it _did_ have a name it wasn't properly a sword and so could not be treated as such. So half his focus was on how the steel was settling rather than moving rocks, which meant he kept getting hit by pebbles. Zoro wasn't usually one for swearing, but this situation merited a bit of creative profanity especially since –so far as he could tell– both Kajin and Lisska were inexplicably fast asleep and a good distance away, in two different directions. That was definitely not right, as seconds ago his Kitsune had been heavily alarmed and fighting for her life and Kajin had been dashing to her side with as much alacrity as Zoro himself. It was also night-time, meaning he was half a world away from his smithy at the very least, and he couldn't feel his kids anywhere. That was the real reason he was swearing, because all five of his blood-children and the three-dozen adoptees should have been emoting quietly in the background on varying levels and yet he couldn't even sense Mariposa, who had never found a background she couldn't stand out from. His little Butterfly wasn't dead, but she wasn't _there_ either. Neither were Falco or Elisa, both of whom he had a much closer connection to than either of Spadille's biological children –Blood and Adora– or the various foster kids, all of whom were as much _his_ kids as the ones who shared his blood.

Scrambling out of the mound of shifting earth and rock, Zoro continued swearing as he glanced up and around himself to get his bearings, automatically reaching out with Observation as had become habit to compensate for only having one eye. He didn't actually use his eye much in fights anymore, but different things fooled the eye than could fool his haki-sense so he was not inclined to slack off on using either. As far as he could tell it was a different season to what he'd left behind –not unusual especially on the Grand Line– and almost everyone within range was either asleep or just woken up by whatever had caused the avalanche. Other then the girl lurking under the treeline about twenty yards away, who was pubescent, distraught and found his use of creative profanity embarrassing, making her a fairly normal semi-sheltered pre-teen. Which suggested wherever he'd landed was an isolated backwater by Grand Line standards, if it was even on the Grand Line at all. The stars suggested not.

Actually, the stars indicated Zoro was in the central north-western region of East Blue -as this certainly wasn't North Blue weather- in the second week of February, which made the greenet cut off the swearing in shock since it had _definitely_ been July that morning, and the phase and height of the moon was all wrong for this year. And any of the last six years, come to that. Zoro noticed such things while training, especially after he took his father-in-law's title and had finally had the time to learn to navigate by the stars like Fox did it. Then he happened to catch sight of the girl trying to hide in the trees and everything went even wonkier:

 _Kuina?!_

 _ **Zoro!**_

Having _both_ his spouses suddenly crash into his brain was a bit too much for Zoro to handle gracefully, so his body quietly checked out as he tried to process the abrupt and overwhelming flood of information and emotion coming at him from both sides.

* * *

Kuina sat seiza on a cushion with her back to the dojo's outer wall, trying not to stare but unable to keep her gaze from being drawn back to the unconscious man lying on a mat behind the screen at the right-hand end of the dojo that separated the class her father was teaching from herself and her patient. The past half-day had been… eventful.

Her father had already been awake when she reached the house the previous evening and had been relieved to see she was unharmed, but that relief had swiftly become concern as she gasped out the news of the avalanche and the injured man. Her father had then hurried down to the road, sending her to set up a mat in the dojo and get out the medical supplies. Kuina had not protested, though it had taken her father longer to get back than she'd expected. When he did finally return with the insensible green-haired man folded over one shoulder Kuina had abruptly noticed how _large_ the stranger was compared to her father. Though perhaps not as tall, the man who looked so like her friend was much broader through the shoulders than her father and considerably more muscular. Despite knowing her father was a talented swordsman, in that moment Kuina had looked at his strained face and known in her heart that her father was not physically strong the way Zoro had always strived to become. Skilful and wise, yes, but not strong. His having difficulty carrying the muscular stranger back to the dojo explained her father's lateness.

After carrying the man into the dojo her father had taken off the stranger's haori and sash, reverently laying the three blades beside the sleeping mat but not even attempting to touch the one still clenched in the man's right hand. Instead he had given the bloody garments to Kuina along with the man's boots and asked her to clean them. Kuina was no stranger to blood –she lived in a dojo and accidents happened– and knew that the sooner the blood was cleaned off the less likely it was to stain, so she went willingly enough. She also knew that her father would be further undressing the stranger to bandage his injuries and that it was inappropriate for her to witness such a thing. Besides, she was jittery and her emotions were all over the place so laundry would be calming, if dull.

However washing the clothing turned out to not be restful at all, as closer examination of the bloodstains suggested the larger ones on the lower portions of the haori had come from somewhere other than the man himself: she'd last seen stains like this when Tobi grazed the side of Shinji's head and the younger boy's blood had spattered all over the taller one's shirt. Except this blood was at about thigh height on the garment, the right height to have come from a child and there was so _much_ of it staining the wash water, it was like he'd been standing near someone who had been violently injured by the falling rubble…

Kuina shivered at the implications, but did not move from her seat. After washing the garments she had hung them out to dry in the kitchen and meticulously cleaned the tall and well-worn black boots before returning to the dojo, where her father had the green-haired man neatly bandaged and covered by a blanket. The stranger's bloodstained trousers were neatly placed to one side with a bowl of bloody water and the remaining medical supplies but her father had shooed her off when she tried to tidy them away, sending her firmly off upstairs to bed so she would be rested for the morning. Kuina hadn't thought she'd be able to sleep, but as she lay back on her futon her late-night practice, fight against Zoro, emotional upheaval and shock at encountering a man so similar in appearance to her friend had all caught up with her at once and she'd been asleep almost as soon as her head touched the pillow.

When she'd woken up in the morning she'd gone downstairs for breakfast to find her father had not gone back to bed at all, and had instead spent the rest of the night sitting next to the unconscious man. Then after breakfast her father had removed the bandages, revealing the green-haired man's injuries had been superficial, and asked her to sit with the sleeping stranger while he led the day's lesson. He had also informed her regretfully that men from the village had come by shortly after dawn to clear the rubble and were of the opinion that there were no more survivors to be found. Kuina had then tremulously revealed her conclusions based on the bloodstains on their guest's clothing and been comforted with a rare hug from her father. He had however cautioned her not to grieve overmuch, to remember that life was as fragile as it was precious and to remember her friend as he had been in life rather than allow his death to drag her down. Kuina had still cried, but she had taken comfort in her father's words. Her father had never been good at expressing emotions but he did care and that he had said as much as he did told her more than mere words could convey. He had lost a student and she a friend and rival.

Kuina wasn't sure why the stranger was still asleep –noon was less than an hour away– when his injuries had been light, but guessed it had something to do with the bloody scrape down his temple. Head wounds were tricky like that.

Having to sit quietly was sending her mind in uncomfortable directions though. What if this stranger _was_ closely related to Zoro? How could they tell him his brother, son or nephew was dead? Why had he only come now, when Zoro had been in the village for nearly three years trying to defeat her? Why did he have four swords? Kuina was more interested in using swords than knowing about the history of the Meito –that was her cousin Tashigi's obsession– but she knew her own family's sword was Great Grade and had picked up a smattering of sword lore in sheer self-defence from the occasional trips to Loguetown when they visited her aunt and uncle. Of the three swords laid out beside the mat, one was a famous Great Grade sword, one looked to be a Grade Sword of at least two centuries of age based on the style of the suka and the third was a complete mystery, if very obviously of incredible quality. The fourth sword, the one in the stranger's hand, was a very new blade of comparable quality to the mystery third, which made Kuina worry that it might have been made for Zoro. If so, explaining that Zoro was… was dead was going to be awful.

* * *

Zoro wasn't entirely sure how long he'd been unconscious and didn't actually care. If he'd been in danger his instincts and Observation haki would have alerted him, but they hadn't so there was no issue. He was far more concerned with how his beloved wife, the centre of his world, had been forced to spend over _twelve years_ without him and reassuring her of how much he loved her. That she'd had Kajin at her side for about seven of those years was immaterial: he might be one of two husbands but that didn't make him and Spadille interchangeable and Zoro had always been the one who grounded both his whimsical spouses. Looking over their memories made Zoro desperately want to kill the creatures that had banished his wife here: the uncertainty and pain threaded through so many of them was palpable. Nobody got to hurt _his_ partners and get away with it!

His darling Lisska wasn't quite the same as she had been on his yesterday and her own decade-and-change ago: the stress and strain had taken its toll and awakened new and interesting mental nuances that Zoro was looking forward to fully exploring in person, though for now he had to settle with sharing her mind to the point that even he wasn't quite sure where the edges between them were. It would make him a bit unsteady on his feet for a few days after waking up and mean he had to train a bit more than usual to properly separate whose body was whose, but it was well worth it. Kajin was less clingy, preferring to thread himself around and through his spouses' shared mindscape, not quite melding but certainly very well tangled up in both of them. To Zoro this was like the aftermath of a small war without any actual action, but Lisska and Spadille's memories were soon filling in the gaps to the point that he was beginning to need the comfort as much as they did: the past years had been like a never-ending siege for his beloved Angel of Death, with Spadille's arrival a welcome reprieve and desperately-needed reinforcement but not a full relief. Only now that Zoro was here in this strange not-quite-past did Fox truly _believe_ that everything was going to be alright.

Zoro was also looking forward to meeting his new children –because any child of his wife's was a child of his– especially when two of them were counterparts of his captain and his husband's former self. Then there was Blaze –who seemed to be growing up a lot like his own darling Elisa back home complete with the knack for finding interesting people– Sabo –who had managed to avoid the incident with the Tenryuubito that gave him those terrible scars back home– and Orchis, who seemed to be her Grandmother Pearl in miniature with added D-ness. Not that Orchis had the D in her name but Zoro could see the traits in her that had driven Luffy to become Pirate King and Spadille to carve out a territory as Yonko and so ruthlessly police it that their children were raised in relative peace. Matsuri also sounded interesting, as did the rest of Kajin's crew who were another kind of family. He was rather looking forward to meeting for himself the Nico Robin that Kajin had a hand in raising.

Then there were the newly-arrived quintuplets, barely seven weeks old and all completely adorable. Adorable and _his_ , no matter that Marco had sired them: _all_ of Lisska's offspring were his and nothing would ever change that. She was his and so was everything that was hers, including the crazy flame logia she'd brought into their marriage by order of their captain. Kajin knew perfectly well that Zoro saw the larger man as _his_ and had never voiced even the slightest protest in all their twenty-five years of marriage, verbally or otherwise. Well, thirty-seven years of marriage now, which meant he had twelve years of wedding anniversaries and birthdays to make up for, not to mention twelve years-worth of sex. That last one would take some doing, but Zoro was willing to give it his all.

However before he did that, he would have to deal with Kuina and the likelihood of his late arrival having replaced his counterpart in this universe. That would be tricky as Luffy would need a future master swordsman for his crew and the most promising candidate for that was no longer available. Being a great believer in Fate, Zoro was sure the universe would compensate for this somehow, but that didn't mean he couldn't help things along a bit. After all, Kuina had beaten his own younger self two thousand and one times before dying, so she had the skills. She just needed the drive.

The World's Strongest Swordsman, called the Pirate Hunter, the Right Hand of the Pirate King and Asura, grinned to himself in his heart. If there was one thing he was good at, it was goading women into surpassing their limits. Lisska told him it was a rare gift and laughed inside as she said it, but her amusement didn't make him any less effective. Back home Tashigi had become a Vice-Admiral and chased him down relentlessly year after year, far exceeding the expectations of all her fellow Marines save Smoker, somehow driven to greater heights by Zoro's blunt honesty. Seeing her work so hard to overcome her many weaknesses had been part of what persuaded Zoro that brutal honesty was the best and only way to interact with others. After all, it was what also kept his unlikely relationship with Kajin and Lisska working. That would be after he woke up though.

* * *

Nico Robin had answered to 'Albatross' for so many years now that she sometimes forgot she'd ever been called anything else. Chronologically it had been seven years since Spadille had picked her up off the street, but her captain's loving care and encouragement had been such a new and wonderful experience that she'd thrown herself into her new identity with gleeful alacrity and rarely thought about her past hardships at all. However things were changing for the crew of the Morning Glory and the so-called Devil's Child knew that soon their life of leisure and training would be over and Spadille would be leading them in pursuit of his dream. East Blue was an unusual starting point, but the disguised twenty-year-old knew that the so-called 'weakest sea' was where Spadille's wife and kids lived and said wife was why their captain had decided to stay in these waters for the coming months. She'd known their captain was a family man, but his giddy glee at becoming a father of quintuplets about two months ago had boggled the minds of all on board. Quintuplets were generally far more children than a person expected from one pregnant mother, and most fathers would be daunted rather than triumphant at the impending responsibility.

Spadille wasn't the only one to have roots in East Blue though, as it was both Skua's and Gin's home territory. Not that Gin cared enough to want to visit his home island: as far as the twenty-two-year-old fighter was concerned the Morning Glory _was_ home and he belonged nowhere else. Skua had relatives in the Polestar Islands but hadn't asked to visit them, though he'd posted no small number of letters while they were anchored in Loguetown after crossing the Grand Line.

Shifting on her perch on the edge of the crow's nest under a clear blue sky that stretched from horizon to horizon over the waters around them, the young archaeologist on morning watch mused on the happenings of the past year and her new family, whom she loved dearly despite not really daring to share the truth of her identity with as various members of said family pottered about on deck below her. The captain was yet to emerge from his cabin; today had thus far been a rest day as a result but that was liable to change at any given moment.

There was Balis, who she _did_ want to tell simply because she was pretty sure he wouldn't care, but the wotan didn't really consider secrets as something to be kept from nakama, only from outsiders. Telling him would mean the others would inevitably find out in an uncontrolled manner and Robin couldn't risk it. She did love Balis though: he was calm, accepting and had an unexpectedly hopeful outlook on life for someone who'd been so ostracised. He had grown into a graceful and capable fighter since joining the crew and was much quieter than seemed possible for someone so large. He was a slow learner but dogged in his pursuit of improvement in both Fishman Karate and haki, so Spadille didn't push him like he did some of the others on the crew. The half-fishman was pretty decent at Armament after nearly a years' worth of training but Observation was still beyond him, though his reflexes were nothing to sniff at. His vibrant colouring and bulging eyes made him really stand out in the Blues, but Balis didn't let it bother him and Robin admired that about him.

Tristan was someone Robin trusted with her health, but she didn't want to tell him about her real identity because it would make him curious about her Devil Fruit. She knew he wouldn't care either about her bounty or her lying about her name, but he _was_ very curious about Devil Fruit and their effects on the body of those who had eaten them and Robin did not want to be badgered into being a test subject even though the tall, ginger-haired doctor was much calmer than he'd been when he first came on board. Her favourite sparring partner had a remarkable aptitude for Armament which Robin did not share, though her proficiency with Observation did make it easier for her to dodge his snake-quick strikes. Tristan was the only member of the crew other than the Captain who could reliably project Armament _beyond_ his body too, which made him all the more formidable in a fight.

Thinking about Tristan inevitably led to thinking about Sagi, as the two were firm friends and drinking partners. The long-legs woman had gone from being quiet and obedient to as loud, brash and confident a pirate as could be. She ignored fools on principle but was not above teaching them a lesson if they bad-mouthed her crew-mates; Sagi detested hearing her nakama slandered. She was also a far better fighter than she'd ever been before and was easily as good at using Observation haki as Robin herself was. She also had truly exceptional senses –her hearing in particular was amazing– and was making steady inroads into getting a reliable grip on Armament, her years of martial training giving her the discipline that most of the rest of the crew lacked.

Then there was Skua, whom Robin suspected to have family pirate connections not unlike the Captain's own. The axe-wielding chef was hands-down the best at using Observation haki out of all the crew and as discreet as Robin herself about his own past and background. His cooking was something any pirate on board would cheerfully kill for, especially his desserts, and while he wasn't all that great at reinforcing his own body he could use Armament to augment the efficacy of his axes with no trouble at all. Robin had been seriously tempted to tell him about her past on several occasions, but in the end had refrained simply because while she got on very well with the dark-haired cook, they weren't actually the kind of friends who talked about the past together. Besides, his budding relationship with Matsuri made her feel uncomfortable about sharing personal secrets with him. Skua wrote to the little dancer about once a month and smiled whole-heartedly whenever he got a letter back, even if it was only half a page long. It didn't seem right to try and distract Skua from the delicate trust he was cultivating with their absent crew-mate, so Robin kept her secrets to herself.

Oddly enough, the person on board that she was closest to other than Spadille himself was actually Gin. He'd known her the longest and was the only member of the crew who had an inkling as to the nature of her Devil Fruit. Everyone on board knew she'd eaten one –just in case she fell overboard and needed rescuing– but when it had been just her, Spadille and Gin sailing in East Blue four years previously she'd not been as discreet as she might have been. However the straightforward fighter had never mentioned it to any of the others, never asked her awkward personal questions and despite being interested enough to keep up with what bounties were being issued, increased or retracted, he had never confronted her about her identity. Robin knew that Gin knew that her current appearance was a disguise, but he didn't seem to care. She appreciated that silent loyalty and in return had never attempted to find out what had led him to the desperate straits she and Spadille had found him in all those years ago.

The other member of the crew who had the potential to figure her identity out for himself was Hendrick 'Firebomb' Teresh', who was fifty-two now and starting to slow down a bit. The cranky old man was someone all the younger crew had a bit of a love-hate relationship with, as he never hesitated to berate them for their mistakes but also knew all kinds of interesting stories he was happy to share. He also knew just as many songs as their captain did and was always up for a drink. His hair was dyed medium brown and he wore round-lensed spectacles as a disguise to prevent the Marines from recognising him, but under the dye he was going grey and Robin knew she wasn't the only one who worried about his health. The canny former pirate captain had declared haki to be 'a young pirate's game' and had not managed to master more than the most basic Armament no matter how many times Spadille tried to beat it into him, though his reflexes were such that he could fool the less skilled half of the crew even when they were using Observation.

For all his mental agility, Robin did not expect Long Tew to catch her out. The elegant blond was highly educated and much better at reading people than he'd ever been before, but his social skills were still lagging a bit. Robin could tell because she'd had the same problem as a teen before Spadille's training had enabled her to catch up, but Tew wasn't there yet. He was much better at relaxing with the crew and was actually friendly now rather than just polite, but he wasn't really confident enough to push the boundaries yet. He'd improved off-ship too and rather than being stiffly aloof was showing off his truly fabulous manners to the ladies of dubious repute in various bars and similar establishments, which was winning him a great many admirers. Tew wasn't slacking off though: he was faster and more precise than ever with his rapier and his Observation haki was only slightly less honed than Skua's. He still wasn't satisfied with it though, and kept on trying to improve and expand his range. He was mediocre with Armament, but Spadille hadn't called him out on that deficiency yet.

Kobold had changed the most: he was fourteen and shooting up like a weed, nearly as tall as Teresh and showing no signs of slowing down. The rapid growth made him clumsy in hand-to-hand but his aim had not suffered in the slightest and Spadille had finally let him start using rifles the previous autumn. Oddly enough for a sniper the little goblin had serious difficulty with Observation, but Robin thought that might just be puberty messing with his attention span as he was a natural with Armament and automatically Reinforced his bullets when shooting. The captain was teaching the teenager stick fighting as a compromise rather than trouncing him in straight hand-to-hand, but rather than giving Kobold a staff had the boy using one of his new rifles. It was rather unconventional but seemed pretty smart, considering the green teen's natural skill with anything remotely gun-shaped.

The three newer crew-members Robin knew rather well but didn't even consider sharing her identity with: they barely knew her and had yet to prove their dedication. They'd barely been on board five months yet.

Nathan she was pretty sure wouldn't care and would likely forget, as he was so obsessed with tinkering and tending to the ship's engine that everything and anything else went right over his head, including Spadille's innuendo-laced humour. He was no fighter but anybody venturing into the engine room did so at their peril, as despite his lack of training and disinterest in combat he wielded a mean wrench. He was learning Observation, but tailored it for machinery rather than people, and wouldn't even _try_ Armament. Robin was rather looking forward to what her Captain would come up with to persuade him otherwise. That might even be what Spadille was doing now that was keeping him in his cabin.

Mason and Badger on the other hand had thrown themselves into learning about haki with glee and were both level-headed and experienced sailors. They were both musical as well with moderate combat experience, though only Badger had proper training in how to fight: he was a very capable boxer. Badger also had a knack for brewing moonshine and acted as Nathan's assistant in the engine room from time to time, mostly because he could keep his mouth shut and followed orders very precisely. Mason liked to talk, but was amiable enough not to gossip and mostly nattered about the news, the weather and whatever else was going through his head. Robin had no difficulty tuning him out if necessary and found him good enough company, though Badger's dryly subtle sense of humour was more to her taste than Mason's.

All in all, Robin liked the crew she was part of and was looking forward to the moment when Spadille decided to take them onto the Grand Line and make a name for himself rather than just preparing and scheming in preparation so that his proposed deposition of one of the Four Emperors would succeed. That moment was probably no more than a year away now and she fully intended to be ready for it.

* * *

By noon Kuina had stopped staring at the mystery greenet and finally begun thinking about what her life would be like now her rival and best friend was dead. She had no intention of letting go of her dream, no matter that Zoro would never see her achieve it, but defying her father and pursuing swordsmanship in the face of his dismissal of her potential was going to be… difficult. Her father had been all she had from childhood and she'd always strived for his approval and it was daunting to realise that, to truly become the greatest swordswoman in the world, she would have to let go of that. Because her father would _not_ approve and very clearly felt that she would be wasting her time in continuing to train once she had finished puberty.

Sighing lightly, Kuina glanced absently down at the unconscious stranger, then stiffened and looked again, eyes widening and her breath catching unpleasantly in her throat.

Though the stranger had not shifted in the slightest and his breathing was still as slow and deep as it had been for the past half day, a single steely grey eye watched her calmly and patiently from a scarred, tanned face. The sheer intensity and power condensed in that neutral, measuring stare made the eleven-year-old feel faint.

"You're awake," she managed to whisper hoarsely, then winced internally at how _inane_ a comment that was.

"So it would seem," the stranger commented and Kuina couldn't suppress the shiver that danced up her spine at the sound of his rich, warm and faintly accented voice. It was totally different to how Zoro sounded, both in pitch and in tone: this man could probably charm birds down from trees if he wanted to!

Kuina then realised she was woolgathering and flushed. "I'll go fetch my father," she said hastily, rising to her feet. "Please don't move."

* * *

Zoro watched the counterpart of his childhood friend hurry away, her face still pink, and couldn't help the small smile that briefly quirked his lips as he sat up and started stripping off the bandages wrapped around him. He had no idea where his clothes were, but the blanket would suffice until he found them since he was in somebody else's home and Kuina's father had always been a bit rigid about not exposing his daughter to the facts of life before he thought she was ready for them. Well, so far as he could remember at least; it had been over thirty years since he'd last seen _his_ Kuina alive after all, not counting the twelve years he'd missed. It was an attitude Zoro disapproved of: life rarely waited until you were ready to throw things at you and his daughters had turned out admirably well the way _he_ had raised _them_ , so he knew that early exposure to various things like nudity, multiple cultures and various ways of thinking was not harmful to young minds so long as you did it right. However he recognised he wasn't Kuina's father so it wasn't really his business… unless either Kuina or her father made it his business, of course.

"Ah!" Zoro did not look up or react to the embarrassed squeak and associated slightly lustful mortification that coloured little Kuina's haki as she retreated back around the screen. Modesty had no place in a master swordsman and prudishness could get a person killed, not that he'd ever had much of either to begin with. Instead he shifted himself so he was sitting seiza, blanket loosely draped around his waist, and took the new sword in both hands so he could examine it more closely. It had settled now and he was curious to see how it had turned out considering how eventful its shaping period had turned out to be.

Closing his eye, the swordsmith let himself fall into Observation, allowing the faint impression of the new blade to wash over him.

 _Darkness, not shadow but the utter emptiness of the void tempered only by passion tinged with hunger. Unbending and absolute, for there is nothing_ _ **to**_ _bend._ Most of Zoro's blades held a hint of that hungry darkness, which was why one of his lesser nicknames back home was 'the Demon Smith': it was a faint reflection of his own inner urges and made his creations slightly more finicky than other swords of comparable quality. This new blade was on par with a Skilful Grade sword, but the greenet suspected it had a temperament closer to Shusui than to any of his previous creations. Possibly due to them both being black blades, but Zoro was sure there was more to it than that. He would have to experiment. Setting that thought aside, he let the currents of the blade's budding identity carry him away again. _Stillness. Not empty but solid, absorbing and dissipating pressure rather than allowing it to pass through. Heaviness and immobility coloured with Will; resistance._ Where Shusui had a bit of a temper this new blade was instead sullen, reluctant and stubborn, digging in metaphorical heels and determined to force any wielder to earn every last inch of ground. A soft, fond smile spread across Zoro's face as he opened his eye:

"Ashura Koshitsu I name thee," he murmured warmly, "and welcome to the family. I'm sure you will do great things in the right hands." The sword did not reply or in any way indicate that it had heard him, but its presence was now _set_ in a way it had not been before. Naming was _important_ , for swords as much as it was for people, and this new sword's stubbornness had been acknowledged and fixed for as long as it existed, which considering it was a black blade might well be forever. Black blades didn't break, didn't rust, took forever to sharpen and even longer to grow blunt.

That responsibility complete, Zoro looked up to meet his host's eye. "My thanks for your hospitality," he said bluntly, half his mind instantly wandering off to watch Fox now that the pressing issue of naming the new blade was dealt with. "I am Roronoa Zoro." He refused to be anyone else and didn't care what Kuina's father thought of him and his younger counterpart having the same name. He was welcome to draw his own conclusions.

The bespectacled, mild-looking man blinked. "You are most welcome, Roronoa-san," he said politely. "I am Isshin Koshiro." He paused, taking a moment to sit opposite the greenet. "Please forgive my asking, Roronoa-san, but do you have children?"

"Yes, I have several," Zoro said calmly, setting the new blade aside. "This sword was made for my son, in fact: I felt it was time for him to have a blade to call his own." He paused. "However I now realise that I will not be able to give it to him." He would have to forge a different blade for Eddis when they eventually went back to their home dimension, which was a decade away at the very least, considering what Lisska had promised Dragon. The future Pirate King did have to grow up after all.

Koshiro bowed his head silently and Zoro realised that the other man had misunderstood him and thought that he had been referring to his recently deceased younger alternate when speaking of his son. Not seeing any point in saying otherwise, Zoro changed the subject:

"Might I stay here for a week or so, Isshin-san? I'd like to get myself back in shape before leaving." Fox was barely a thought away but he needed to get used to his own body away from her after the previous night's melding. Any watchers would likely mistake his lingering body confusion as being a result of the head injury he'd got from the rock slide. Head wounds could have unpredictable effects.

"Of course, Roronoa-san; you are most welcome," Koshiro said with a gentle smile. "Might you be willing to lead a few classes in the dojo? It has been a long time since a true swordmaster has passed this way."

Zoro shrugged. "Sure." He rather enjoyed teaching, so long as the students took it seriously. "Where are my clothes?"

"I will fetch them for you." Kuina's father hurried off, leaving Zoro to muse on how best to go about setting up a personal training program. Just bare-handed katas first, then some blindfold training before taking up the swords again. He'd also have to find a half-decent local bar, as so far as he remembered Koshiro wasn't much of a drinker and barely kept any sake in the dojo.

* * *

Bright and early the morning of the day after he first woke up, Zoro washed quickly, dressed, rolled up his sleeping mat and neatly folded the bedding Koshiro had lent him then set out down the road away from the dojo, towards the rest of Shimotsuki village. Thankfully he knew this particular area by heart, otherwise what Spadille called his 'Irregular Directional Displacement Syndrome' would have made finding the nearest bar trickier for him. Sharing his mind with his two spouses had taught him any number of things over the years, but a very important lesson had been that every human being was made up of a spiritual component, a mental component and a physical component. While he, Lisska and Spadille held their 'mental component' in common, if roughly divided up between them to reduce confusion, their 'spiritual components' were mostly separated and their 'physical components' –their bodies– were entirely distinct. This was important because some things that appeared to be mental were actually spiritual, some things which appeared to be physical were mental and so on.

Zoro had learnt through tedious experience that the disconnect between the directions he got and where said directions took him was actually a result of something being non-standard in the actual physical structure of his brain, which meant that in order to work with other people he had to develop workarounds so he could translate what they told him into something he could actually use. Having an eidetic memory had really helped him there, as by the time Luffy had been Pirate King for a decade Fox had helped him find and memorise all of the intricately annotated star charts she used to navigate by and all of Nami's hundreds of exquisitely detailed maps of every single island in existence, which in time and with practice he had learned to orientate himself by regardless of where peoples' directions led him. It had also turned him into a perfectly capable navigator, though Spadille and Nami both insisted he was still completely terrible at holding a course despite being able to plot one out on a map and knowing which stars to steer by. He wasn't even allowed _near_ the rudder or wheel of any ship under his husband's command.

The swordsman paused in the middle of the road as his senses informed him of an unexpected shift in his environment. Shimotsuki wasn't this big, or this heavily populated. Its buildings were in bleached boards, not mud-brick and heavy timber, its roads were not paved and despite the light still being superficially similar, it was supposed to be dawn, _not_ dusk. Glancing up at the sky with his only eye, Zoro confirmed his suspicions: yep, West Blue, which explained the stars if not how he got here. Exactly the same time of year, thankfully, and the same year too, but he was on the opposite side of the planet and considerably nearer the Grand Line.

More importantly however, he was standing right outside an aging saloon with swing doors and could smell spirits on the warm air, mingled with enthusiastic if amateurish piano playing, a mishmash of different conversations and that slight sense of unsteadiness that always tainted peoples' haki presence when they'd had a bit more to drink than their bodies' could stand.

Since somewhere to drink _had_ been what he'd been looking for, Zoro pushed through the swing doors and walked directly over to where his Colour of Observation said the bar was, automatically skirting the mismatched chairs –occupied or otherwise– cluttering the floor, gracefully sidestepping the waitress with a blackjack hidden amongst her flared skirts and absently ducking the flailing fist of a rather enthusiastic patron. When he reached the bar he caught the barman's eye and tapped out the standard Grand Line bar code for a generous mug of rum –and to keep them coming. The greying, balding former-pirate behind the bar treated him to a long, assessing stare, but the greenet matched it with calm, habitual ease and fished in his pockets for something to start a tab with. He hadn't used beli to pay for anything in over twenty years, what with being The Right Hand of the Pirate King, The World's Strongest Swordsman and married to Fox, who claimed he was so terrible with money it was better for him to let other people deal with it for him. Zoro actually agreed with her there; money just didn't make sense to him and he'd never really been able to get his head around numbers on paper. They just didn't mean anything to him and he could never remember why the number of zeroes was important. Some things just didn't make sense to his brain. He did however carry small bags of broken-up pieces of silver and gold, as some of the more inaccessible and hostile islands on the Grand Line didn't accept beli, only trading in precious metals by weight, weaponry and other goods of consistent value.

Fishing out the pouch of hack-silver and his collapsible scales, Zoro carefully weighed out ten ounces as the barman set his drink on the bar. The greenet then stuffed the pouch back in his haori, tipped the precious metal out on the scarred wooden bar top and reached for the tankard as his off-hand easily collapsed the scales away again. The former pirate behind the counter silently swept the precious metal off the bar and into his hand as Zoro downed his drink, savouring the sweetness and the bite of the alcohol, livened up with a twist of lime like all sailors drank it. As he set the tankard back on the bar top the barkeep –who was also the owner Zoro noted as he started to get a better feel for his surroundings– put a new one in front of him. Settling in for a good long brainstorming session, Zoro drank this next one more slowly, absently finishing tankard after tankard as his focus shifted inward and he pondered his current situation, consulting both Spadille and Lisska every now and then when he desired a second opinion.

His wife believed that his new spatial dislocation was a result of the interaction of her own logia-related teleportation ability and the way Zoro's mind worked. He'd clearly 'picked up' her ability to instantly relocate to anywhere there were living things, but because Lisska thought in a completely different way to him and it wasn't his skill to begin with, he couldn't direct it properly or turn it off.

Zoro hadn't even realised people experienced the world in unique ways that changed from person to person until he was intimately and profoundly bonded to two very different people. Spadille for example thought temporally and emotionally: he remembered things based on when they happened and how he felt about them, which resulted in linear thinking all crisscrossed with references nobody else could keep up with unless they could read the Logia's inner 'cheat sheet' like he and Lisska did.

Lisska thought spatially and personally: she knew exactly where she was at all times, exactly where everything she'd ever experienced had happened and had it all mapped out like a cartographer's wet dream. She frequently could not remember which time a visit to such-and-such an island had led to them escaping at the dead of night with crates loaded up with stolen goods, but she knew what route they'd taken, who had been with them –with various intimate details of said individuals– and how much the goods had been worth.

Zoro however remembered everything exactly as he'd seen it, so he actually had much larger mental 'deposits' than both his spouses together. Due to having so very many memories of various locations, most of which were very similar, the greenet remembered things comparatively, connecting _this_ road with the memories of other roads that had looked almost exactly the same, _this_ bit of wood carving on the side of a building with _that_ piece of ship decoration he'd seen in the harbour that was paved in _that_ type of stone, leading him to remember _other_ harbours which had been paved the same and so on. It was part of why he had trouble following directions: after going just about everywhere on the planet, it was all familiar to a greater or lesser degree and all ran into everywhere else in his head. It had always been like that, but the consequences were no longer something he could manage through constant use of Observation haki. He just didn't have the range to be able to tell what was going on half a world away unless one of his spouses was there.

Zoro eventually concluded, and his spouses both agreed, that the only way for him to get back to the Isshin dojo in East Blue was for him to picture it clearly in his mind and focus on the details that combined to make it unique, then keep walking until he found it. Spadille was rather keen to speculate about how many other places Zoro might pass through on the way, but the greenet didn't find pondering that to be very helpful. It was, in fact, distracting. Like his bluet husband was, which might explain why Kajin so liked the idea. His adorable Angel of Death was more concerned with how this would affect his ability to get to places when he wanted to and if it would reduce his ability to respond in emergencies. The latter issue really bothered Zoro, so he was determined to train and practice until he could focus clearly enough to get to places without being side-tracked when he was in a hurry. Sometimes wandering off the main road led a person to new and interesting places you would not have found otherwise, like the bar he was in right now for instance.

Pleased with his conclusion, the greenet swordsman downed his final drink, got to his feet, walked across the room and out of the swing doors of the saloon, focusing as he did so on the view from the road of the Isshin dojo in Shimotsuki, the layout of the buildings, the type of tiles on the roofs, how the boards were faded and the haki presences of Koshiro and Kuina, which held as many similarities to each-other as they did differences.

* * *

The solidly muscled and heavily scarred pirate with three swords vanished completely from sight somewhere between walking out the doors and entering the field of view of any of the bar's windows; the barman picked up a cloth and absently polished the bar, musing as he did so on the likelihood of the man ever coming back. It seemed probable: anyone who handed over 20,000 beli's worth of high-grade silver to start a bar tab was a person intending to return. That the man had managed to drink fifteen pints of barely-watered rum then walk out the door without even faltering in his stride was something to remember though: whoever the swordsman was, he was clearly a hardened and experienced professional despite his apparent youth.


	18. Acceptance

This is the penultimate complete chapter, so updates will be stopping soon.

* * *

 **Acceptance**

Zoro managed to get back to the Isshin family dojo three hours before noon: incredible timing considering he'd been in West Blue but rather poor when the instantaneous nature of travel was taken into account. It meant he had three hours to train in before he was expected to make an appearance for lunch and four hours before the class he'd been asked to give. Kuina was the only female student in the dojo, which meant the greenet's usual practice of dividing the class between boys and girls wasn't feasible. So he'd have to ask Koshiro to have Kuina go and do something else while he was teaching then tutor her later, after the village boys had left.

It wasn't that Zoro thought girls were weaker than boys, it was the simple fact that there were a few rather fundamental physical differences between genders that meant girls and boys needed slightly different stances, movements and approaches to swordsmanship in order to realise their full potential. He'd been vaguely aware of this ever since seeing Lisska fight at Enies Lobby, but the full scope of the adjustments required hadn't hit him until he'd been faced with his own eldest daughter's desire to become a swordswoman, at which point he'd realised he didn't know _how_ to train girls. So he'd had to hand her training over to his father-in-law, who _had_ known what to do thanks to having taught his own daughter, and slightly under a decade later Zoro had finally bitten the bullet, hunted down Ivankov and persuaded the Okama King to assist him in his quest to become the greatest _swordswoman_ in the world. Lisska didn't count; she didn't fight face-to-face, one-on-one like he did. His wife might have been taught swordsmanship but that didn't mean she was a swordswoman: she was an assassin who happened to be completely lethal with a sword.

It had taken three years, in which Zoro had learnt a great deal and seriously freaked out most of his fellow pirates more times than he cared to count –much to Spadille's glee– but he had managed to realise the potential of his female body and defeat all comers despite a significant reduction in upper-body strength. Then Ivankov had turned him back and Zoro, as payment, had sworn to take on any female student who had what the okama called 'ze drive to excel!' regardless of their social situation, age and personality. That promise had caused him no small number of headaches over the years, but his students had all done well for themselves no matter their personal ambitions. None were really on his level, but they all had fire, determination and vision and that was what he looked for. Of course, he only took on students who _asked_ him to teach them, as someone who couldn't swallow their pride, bow their head and beg for training from a master who'd casually defeated them was someone who lacked the drive required to surpass their limits. Their need to excel was less important to them than their pride. Hence why he'd never had to teach Tashigi, despite the woman's boneheaded persistence in hunting him down time and again to fight, lose, throw a tantrum and sulk, not necessarily in that order.

Settling himself on the back practice field, removing his haori and tying his bandanna around his eyes, Zoro set about moving through all the basic moves he knew in all the possible order combinations at barely quarter-speed. Once he was finished he would move on to his more complex moves, still at quarter-speed. Going slow was important for training strength and precision, especially the latter, and after merging his mind with his darling, deadly Kitsune he needed to reacquire his precision as swiftly as possible.

* * *

Less than half an hour into his training Zoro sensed the arrival of an audience, but he ignored it as Kuina was very sensibly sitting on the edge of the raised floor that stuck out a few inches from the edge of the dojo's back wall above the raised piling, more than six sword-lengths away. If he'd felt like using the Way of Destruction then it wouldn't be far enough away, not even close, but he was doing awareness training not target practice. So he continued slowly gliding through the various moves he'd perfected, first with one sword, then with two, then at last with three. He kept his speed slow enough to make his muscles burn with the exertion of not wavering and drag out what could be a half-hour run-through into a three-hour workout. It was very satisfying to finish it without hesitating or stumbling, a sign that he was getting more fluent at recovering from merging with his wife. Sheathing his blades, Zoro removed the blindfold and turned so he could catch Kuina's eye. Since she'd stuck around and was clearly experiencing some kind of internal turmoil, he could at least see if she was prepared to talk about it. Their friendship had never really gotten off the ground, here or in his own world, but she had still been the person to inspire him to excel until Lisska had come along so helping her get her head on straight was the least he could do.

Zoro did not believe that he had killed his counterpart, or that his alternate younger self was even dead: the eight-year-old Roronoa Zoro had been identical to how he had been at that age so if anything the boy had been assimilated somehow. There was only room for one Roronoa Zoro in the world, and Zoro had been older, stronger, more experienced and more determined, so he had prevailed. It was different for Spadille, as he was fundamentally different from the young Portgas D. Ace in several major ways even discounting how Lisska had rewritten half his genetic code to match Whitebeard's, and his wife didn't even _have_ a counterpart here. But that was how the cards had fallen, so all Zoro could do was accept fate and get on with living.

"Spit it out, kid," the greenet said shortly to the little girl who looked like a younger, shorter-haired and less wilfully blind version of Tashigi without the Marine's signature glasses or scatty, demanding personality.

Kuina flushed. "I, it was all my fault!" She burst out. "He was only here because he was fighting me and if-"

"Quiet!" Zoro shouted, making the eleven-year-old flinch and cringe. "First, the world doesn't revolve around you, duckling, so stop being so self-centred. Second, did you _know_ that cliff was going to fall down? Didn't think so. Third, did you challenge him? No, he challenged you. It was all his idea. His fate was his own and has absolutely nothing to do with anything _you_ did. Clear?"

Kuina's eyes had started to fill with tears half-way through his little speech and by the end she was sniffling and wiping her eyes, mouth firmly closed and hands shaky. Zoro ignored the show of emotion: those were happy tears. Well, overwhelmed tears at having her budding guilt dismissed, which came to much the same thing. Interestingly, the emotions raging through her presence and shaking her slender frame did not affect the unsteady but gradually coalescing resolve that was spreading through the underpinnings of her personality like ink in water. Unlike Tashigi, who took everything far too personally and was stupidly insecure, Kuina was thicker-skinned than she looked. There was a core of inflexible determination somewhere at the heart of the gifted, naïve dojo-sensei's daughter that needed to see the light of day before the girl let her father's prejudice steal her future away. That would be a criminal waste of talent.

With this in mind, Zoro walked past the girl and up through the back door of the dojo, headed for where his latest creation was laid out beside his rolled-up sleeping mat. Koshitsu in hand, the greenet marched back outside again.

"Duckling." Kuina started and looked up at him, blinking away tears. Zoro held out the black-bladed katana with both hands. "Here, it's yours now."

"M-m-mine?" the girl breathed, hands reaching out for the blade before she caught herself and tried to decline. "b-but I-"

Zoro calmly ignored her protests and firmly set the sword in her hands, closing her fingers around the saya. "I believe you have what it takes to become the greatest swordswoman in the world and this sword deserves to be wielded by someone with that kind of drive. Its name is Ashura Koshitsu and it's not an easy blade to handle, but the challenge will do you good."

Kuina had flushed pink in startled delight when he'd flatly acknowledged her dream, but she still wavered. Well, it was more politeness than real hesitation: the eleven-year-old really _wanted_ the sword in her hands. Unfortunately her father had trained her to be mannerly when addressing her elders, which was something she'd have to get over if she wanted to get anywhere in the real world. Manners were all very well, but most people weren't actually worthy of respect and often took politeness as a sign of weakness. Most didn't understand how to wield good manners like a weapon either.

"It is very generous of you, Roronoa-san," she said with only the faintest hitch in her voice, "but I already have a family sword and I use a one-blade style."

"So you're going to abandon a young blade because you don't know how to wield two swords at once?" Zoro challenged her. "Too difficult for you to learn to fight like that, is it?"

"No!" It was instant, vehement and exactly what Zoro had wanted to hear, even if the girl promptly blushed at her own rudeness. "I mean…" she paused, "Zoro used Nitoryu."

And so Zoro had, until the death of his own new rival had driven him to learn to wield her sword in addition to his own. "Those who inspire you should be remembered as they were, not as they died, you know," he said conversationally, folding his arms, "and the best way to remember them like that is to have something or do something they would have had or done."

Kuina stared down at the black-sheathed, black-hilted, black-bladed katana in her hands for a long moment. Zoro waited patiently for the girl's higher mind to pay attention to what her heart was screaming at her.

"I… yes," she said eventually, looking up to meet Zoro's eye with steely determination. "I accept this blade and will learn to wield it in honour of my friend, so that when I am the greatest swordswoman in the world he can look on from the afterlife and know that I could not have done it without him."

"Good girl," Zoro said with a smile, turning to grab his haori as Kuina's newfound will was snowed under by a fierce flurry of embarrassment and teenage lust. It'd been a while since any of his daughters were at this confusing and impressionable age, but he still remembered what to do. "Is it time for lunch yet?"

* * *

The news that young Zoro had been killed by the landslide was all over the village, so the one-eyed greenet was not surprised when after lunch Koshiro's students all but mobbed Kuina to ask questions and commiserate. Zoro took the opportunity to take the dojo-sensei to one side and ask if he could teach the boys separately from Kuina. Koshiro agreed at once, clearly misunderstanding the greenet's motives due to his own unthinking sexism. Zoro would have enlightened him except that this way he maintained the element of surprise, which exposure to Lisska had taught him was a useful thing to have. So he let Koshiro introduce him to the class, let the man take his daughter with him as he went to organise a memorial service with the village priest and commission a tombstone, then set about teaching the dozen preteens he had once spent six years growing up with. It was strange to see Satoshi, Shinji, Akiteru, Tobi, Hiro, Akira, Jun, Isao, Issei, Unpei, Eikichi and Eiju again, all of them kids again rather than the teenagers he remembered leaving behind when he'd moved on from Shimotsuki aged thirteen. They were all subdued, like they had been after Kuina had died back home, but their curiosity about his presence and appearance meant they were at least paying attention to his lesson.

"My name is Roronoa Zoro," Zoro said briskly, ignoring the collective gasp, "and you will address me as sensei. Koshiro-san has asked that I teach you, but unless you will persevere and put all your heart into learning, I would prefer not to waste my time. I will not tolerate slackers." He paused to glare at the assembled boys; a good half of them _were_ slackers, he knew, but they were all scared of him now and would work hard if only to avoid drawing down his wrath on them. "I will demonstrate a move, and each of you will repeat it until I tell you otherwise. Then you will be paired up to practice the move. Nobody will be permitted to pair up until they can repeat the move ten times without a single mistake."

He had their undivided attention. Good. None of them had the drive he expected from his full time students, but they were all keen and completely serious. This wouldn't be a total waste of time, then.

As he walked around the dojo, correcting stances, adjusting swings and reprimanding those who thought that standing behind him meant they could slack off for a moment, Lisska took a moment to look in on what he was doing. When he complained to her about how pathetic all twelve of them were she giggled at him and suggested he take the opportunity to practice his patience. Zoro mentally glared, making her giggle harder, then snapped at Akira –who was on his blindside– to step forward and demonstrate the move for Unpei, since the skinny nine-year-old was genuinely struggling. All twelve boys were now convinced he had eyes in the back of his head or some kind of supernatural power, but that just made them even more eager to please. Teaching boys was easy; girls required much more effort and twisty thinking.

* * *

Zoro dismissed the class as he sensed Kuina and Koshiro's return and the tired, elated boys stumbled out of the dojo all chattering about how _awesome_ their substitute sensei was and about the cool moves he'd taught them. Zoro's lips twitched as that particularly loud comment reached his ears while he was taking a quick wash; all he had taught them was basics, but they had been basics in a slightly different style to what Koshiro knew. Kuina's father used and taught the traditional Wano samurai style, suggesting his father or grandfather had come from there, but Zoro was more varied and eclectic. The moves he'd taught them would serve them well, being simple but effective. Maybe this time Hiro, Eiju and Satoshi wouldn't get killed by bandits before they were twenty.

The greenet paused, towel held in damp hands, as a spike of surprise, hurt and deep betrayal shook Kuina's haki presence. It wasn't directed at him; the girl clearly blamed her father for making her miss the lesson, but she said nothing. Finishing his wash and redressing, Zoro picked up his swords and followed the pubescent pre-teen to where she was silently taking out her frustrations on the outdoor practice dummies.

"Your stance is all wrong, duckling," the greenet said matter-of-factly in lieu of a greeting. Kuina started, spinning around with her shinai gripped in both hands.

"W-what?"

Zoro sighed. "You fight like a boy, duckling," he said patiently, "but you aren't a boy and never will be, so you're never going to achieve your potential if you don't play your strengths. You're a girl; you're going to be a woman so make the most of it."

"I don't understand," Kuina whispered, not offended but still miserable.

The greenet rubbed a hand over his ruined eye-socket. "You _are_ familiar with the basic physical differences between men and women, I hope?" he inquired dryly. Kuina flushed scarlet; good, one thing he _wouldn't_ have to go into. That was never a good talk to have to give a pubescent child, though Zoro had found himself in a position to give it many times in the past with various adoptees. "Well, those differences are not the only ones: there are deeper, more profound ones that have to be taken into account in developing an effective fighting style. For instance, my centre of balance is here," he touched his solar plexus, "but once you are grown yours will be lower, probably around here," he touched his abdomen. "It isn't there yet, but as you develop as a woman it will shift downwards and you need to adjust your stances to suit or you'll be unbalanced."

"I… didn't know."

"Has your father ever taken female students before? Seriously, I mean? Has he ever fought a serious swordswoman?" Zoro was genuinely interested in the answer; he'd never seen Koshiro fight a female challenger back home and Kuina had been the man's only female student that he knew of.

"No, I don't think so," Kuina said cautiously after a pause, "not that I know of at least."

"In which case, he probably hasn't noticed there's a difference and that it matters," Zoro said briskly. "But my wife's a swordswoman and my daughter wanted to be, so I know and I took the time to learn how to teach girls."

Kuina said nothing, just stood there radiating hope and eagerness as she focused all her attention on him.

"Retraining is always harder than learning from scratch, but since you want to duel-wield you'll have to do that anyway," Zoro mused, remembering how frustrated he'd been at his lack of progress the first few years of trying to wield a sword in his teeth. "Is that your only shinai duckling?"

"I'll get another one." Kuina dashed off up the steps into the dojo. Well, at least _this_ student had drive…

* * *

When dinnertime came around Kuina was sweaty, trembling and exhausted but her haki was humming with contentment and fierce achievement. She'd made very little actual progress, but she never had to be corrected on the same mistake twice and most of her difficulty came from having to consciously restrain herself from falling back on her prior training. Zoro had assigned her weight exercises to do with each arm, so that she could sustain the weight of a sword for hours at a time without faltering, and taught her dexterity exercises so her left hand could catch up with her right in accuracy and responsiveness. Unlike Zoro, Kuina was not ambidextrous so she found even holding a shinai in her left hand challenging and moving both weapons together required incredible amounts of concentration. She seemed to relish the challenge though, which gave him hope.

Unfortunately her father didn't seem to approve of her efforts, Zoro noted as he waited in the main room of the house for Kuina to return from her wash. Koshiro was very definitely one of those old-fashioned Wano samurai types, like Kin'emon had been before the Straw-hats had shocked some sense into him, who didn't think women could fight. Koshiro was worse than Kin'emon in many ways, in fact, as the Foxfire samurai had at least been aware that women who 'weren't respectable' were often dangerous enough to be worthy of respect and that some ninja were female no matter how much the very _idea_ of ninja –of either gender– offended his samurai sensibilities. Koshiro on the other hand was either incredibly ignorant of the ways of the world or just very prejudiced. Probably a bit of both, considering this was East Blue.

Once Kuina arrived, out of breath and apologetic at having held up the meal, the three of them ate in silence. Once the food was finished Kuina went to wash up and Koshiro politely invited Zoro to speak with him in the dojo, well out of earshot of his daughter. Zoro could guess exactly what this was about.

"Roronoa-san, I must request that you not lead my daughter on so," the dojo-sensei said gravely. "I have humoured her childish desire to emulate me thus far, but soon she will be a woman and no longer able to fight."

Zoro snorted. "My wife is a brilliant swordswoman and can defeat me in a straight fight even when seven months pregnant," he said flatly, "and I'm better than anyone else you'll ever meet. I could probably beat Dracule Mihawk if I met him tomorrow." But only 'probably' because he wasn't back at the top of his game yet; if he had been it would have been 'definitely'. "Anyone who thinks women can't fight is deluding themselves."

Koshiro's smile became visibly strained at the very obvious insult. "Nonetheless, I must request that you not train my daughter while you remain under my roof," he said firmly.

Zoro frowned. "I took an oath to train any girl who had the drive to excel and the humility to swallow her pride and beg," he said flatly. "I won't break it for you, Koshiro-san. But I won't teach her anything new until she asks." It was all the compromise he was willing to offer. "I'll be leaving in less than a week anyway."

"To inform your wife of young Zoro's demise?" Koshiro inquired, less than entirely politely. Not that Zoro cared.

"He wasn't her son," the greenet said calmly, "and I've sent news to her already. I haven't been home in far too long and I need to catch up with her and the kids."

"You have other children, Roronoa-san?"

Zoro's mouth twitched up into a smirk. "We have nine, Koshiro-san, so you understand why I really need to get home."

The other man's usual expression of gentle cheer slipped entirely, revealing utter shock. It was always fun to wrong-foot people, Zoro thought wickedly, especially stuffy people who needed to pay more attention to the real world. The silly samurai could make of that what he would, but having interacted with Koshiro from an outsider's perspective Zoro had gotten the hang of how he thought. The greenet was certain he could surprise the samurai with a few more things before the week was up without making much of an effort.

* * *

It took Kuina all of two days to notice that Zoro wasn't teaching her anything new and a further half-day to ask why. As Zoro had made a point to encourage the expression of doubt, frustration and difficulty and had urged his temporary student to demand clarification when she needed it, the greenet was rather pleased it had only taken that long. From how dutiful and deferential he remembered the girl being to adults, he'd been mildly concerned she wouldn't get her act together until he was actually leaving. Of course he told her the truth; truth hurt far less than being lied to and it wasn't his fault Koshiro was prejudiced. The sooner Kuina stopped striving for her father's approval the better, in his opinion.

"My father asked you not to?" Kuina looked completely betrayed, resonating with distress, hurt and budding outrage. Zoro decided that righteous fury needed some encouragement.

"I'm a guest in his dojo, duckling, so I agreed. After all, you aren't my student. But if it was up to me I'd say screw him and his groundless prejudice, since you've got what it takes to make a brilliant swordswoman." This was no less than the truth: Kuina was a true prodigy with swords, more naturally talented than Zoro himself was. He'd had to work twice as hard as she did to make the same progress in twice the time, though she'd eventually have far more difficulty than he'd had in building strength. Her grasp of technique was astounding for someone who'd gone from a single blade to one in each hand only days previously.

Kuina nodded mechanically, her rage burning hotter with every passing moment.

"Since I can't teach you anything new I'll leave you to drill stances," Zoro said, turning to leave the field. "You've got the hang of them now so I don't need to stick around and make sure you're putting your feet in the right place." Correcting stances was the most time-consuming part of re-training, as the whole _point_ was to make them instinctive. Having to constantly adjust Kuina's footwork was why it had taken her this long to notice that he wasn't teaching her anything new.

"Thank-you sensei," the pre-teen said, her voice tight in a way that, had it been either of his own daughters speaking, would have had Zoro sticking around to watch her explode at the poor fool who'd set her off. As it was however he would just have to monitor the fight with haki instead.

* * *

Spadille whistled cheerfully to himself, leaning over the prow of the Morning Glory with one arm braced across the back of the figurehead so he could get a proper feel for the sea and the breeze. In a day or so they'd be anchoring near Dawn Island, though he'd deliberately decided to trade most of the oranges he'd bought from Conomi at the various villages further away from Goa City than Fuusha. It was safer all around if his crew and his kids didn't get a chance to meet until _after_ he'd won a good amount of territory in the New World, so he had only told them his wife lived in Goa kingdom without specifying which part.

Dawn Island was mostly farm land and very prosperous, as evidenced by the fact that the nobles could afford to spend their entire lives in the city without ever visiting the lands that had been in their families for generations. It was subsequently a very cheap place to buy basic supplies like food, timber and ropes, so Spadille was stocking up. In order to get the flagship he wanted he would need to get hold of a lot of Adam wood, which wasn't going to be as expensive as it might have been since Precious had been growing it in Fuusha for him these past five years –getting the cutting for that had been surprisingly easy– but he still had to transport all that lumber to his chosen shipwright and the Morning Glory was nowhere near big enough. He was going to have to build a very long barge with an engine like his long-ago little skiff had had, one that could be powered by his Devil Fruit, and that would take time and parts that Dawn Island didn't have. He had a lot of those parts already –South Blue was a great place to buy that kind of thing– but the rest he'd have to find in Loguetown and Shells town. Loguetown had a little bit of everything on sale but Shells Town had a self-sufficient Marine base that would have a stockpile of mechanical spares he could liberate a few bits and bobs from.

The real reason he was cheerful was that Zoro had finally arrived and would be coming to Fuusha about two days after Spadille planned on arriving. Taking his time like this was just so Zoro: there was nothing wrong, so the greenet was in no hurry and besides, he'd found a cute student to tutor. Just knowing that Zoro was _there_ made everything so much less stressful than it had been before and having his partner around to bounce ideas off meant he finally had a basic plan for the beginning of their campaign of chaos, corruption and conquest. It also meant he'd finally be able to introduce his crew to their first mate, which he was really looking forward to. Getting to see and hear what Zoro thought of his 'merry misfit circus' –as Fox had lovingly dubbed them– would doubtless be masses of fun.

This thought brightening his mind, the massive bluet shifted so he was leaning more solidly into the saucily flirtatious figurehead whose modesty was being imperfectly maintained by a posy of the flowers his ship was named after laid across her hip and a wreath of the same hanging loosely around her neck. Today was a good day for music. With this in mind, he started to hum, eyes crinkling happily as behind and above him Badger joined in the tune on his tin whistle and Gin raised his voice to sing along, his voice harsh but cheerful. Balis soon added his deep and pleasant voice to the chorus and Spadille basked in the joy of being among friends. Today was a wonderful day to be sailing.

* * *

Zoro did his best to at least appear uninvolved in and unaware of the unresolved family strife that had torn the Isshin household in half for the past three-and-a-half days. Of course he wasn't remotely uninvolved –he was rooting for Kuina and both the girl and her father knew it– but this way none of the boys he spent the first half of each afternoon teaching dared to ask him about the blatant chilliness between Koshiro and his daughter after the first time, when he'd stared blankly at Hiro for several heavy seconds then asked if anybody had anything _relevant_ they wanted to ask. That had killed the subject dead.

Mealtimes would have been uncomfortable for anybody less thick-skinned than the greenet, but Zoro had spent nearly thirty years sailing with first Luffy and later Spadille, so he was inured to any kind of family strife that did not directly involve his wife and children. This enabled him to get through his breakfast with a calm but speedy manner, clear his own plate and leave the room while Kuina resolutely refused to look her father in the eye, radiating outrage, pain and simmering determination in the face of Koshiro's anger, hurt and self-righteous pride.

Zoro's perception of haki had evolved considerably over the past decades, following in the wake of his wife's ceaseless inquiry into what it actually _was_. In that time he had gone from hearing 'voices' to sensing emotions and thoughts in a more comprehensive fashion, 'seeing' snatches of thought and 'feeling' the accompanying subtext. His children had complained that he was impossible to lie to and could read their minds, which wasn't quite true but he did come close. It was more that most people weren't quiet thinkers like his wife was and whom the greenet had put a lot of effort into learning to pick up cues from as she didn't actually _think_ about most things in a way he could read through their mental connection.

Fox couldn't pick up emotions through haki at all, as she'd always been able to do it through her Devil Fruit, and her early assassin training meant her Observation was far more instinctive and kinaesthetic than Zoro's own. She was tuned to the subconscious more than the conscious, all the little cues most people didn't even realise they were giving out. As a result what Fox 'observed' was far closer to actual 'truth' than what most people were capable of picking up on with haki and it made her unbeatable in a fight. She could read you even when you _weren't_ thinking.

Spadille was, ironically, far more cerebral in his use of Observation: he could pick up on people's thoughts, emotions and Will as separate imputs, which were filtered into a rather surreal 'puppet theatre' going on around each person that the bluet responded to. Filtering the world through Spadille's haki always made Zoro seriously consider the likelihood that the massive logia was completely off his rocker, but he always dismissed the problem: insane or not, it didn't change a thing about their relationship. Yes, his partner and husband might well be crazy, but it was a good sort of crazy and kept life interesting.

* * *

"Roronoa-san?" Zoro briefly paused and let his eye focus on Kuina so she knew he was paying attention, then went back to his training. He'd finally got his balance back properly and was practicing various moves at full speed, curbing himself from using the Way of Destruction or Armament as neither was remotely necessary. Damaging the dojo he was staying in would also be counter-productive to keeping his presence here reasonably quiet.

"Yes, duckling?" he asked briskly when it became clear she wasn't going to say anything else until he verbally acknowledged her. There was a soft thump, accompanied by a spike of such ferocious _will_ that Zoro paused and lowered his swords so he could face her. She was prostrated on the grass, Wado Ichimonji and Ashura Koshitsu laid neatly beside her.

"Please, take me as your student!"

"Why?" Zoro asked instantly.

"So that I can become the greatest wielder of swords in all the world!" Which was tidily worded: she wanted to be better than anyone else, male or female.

"Why are you asking _me_?"

Kuina lifted her head to look him dead in the eye. "Because you will not coddle me or deceive me with flattery or meaningless platitudes and you will never accept anything less than the best from me, regardless of my age, gender or skill! You do not see what I am, but what I must become in order to achieve my dream!"

Zoro grinned, his fierce battle-smile that had sent many a would-be opponent running for their mother. "Very well duckling, since you clearly have some idea of what you're getting yourself into. On your feet."

"Thank-you shishou!" Kuina all but bounced to her feet, swords in hand and eyes shining.

"But first, a few conditions," Zoro warned her. There was no way he was going to take her with him when he left to win a yonko's title for Spadille, for one thing. Fate however had provided him with the means to visit her here no matter where he was, which just went to show that this was the right thing to do. The regular trips back would provide plenty of opportunities to practice and experiment with his new mode of travel.

"Shishou?"

"You will be staying here, in your father's dojo, until you are of age," Zoro said firmly. "I travel a lot, but I will visit regularly to make sure you are not slacking off and making acceptable progress. Nothing except hard work will get you up to a level of duel-wielding where I can start teaching you specialist moves and I expect you to steadily increase your weight training as we go. You also need to improve your stamina, so I want you running laps every morning before breakfast. Run at your top speed for as long as you can every day and I will know if you don't. This is your dream, so I expect you to work at it _all_ the time, not just when I'm here."

"I have to stay _here_? But shishou, my father-"

"Knew that I would take you on if you asked me," Zoro interrupted. "He will not make this remotely easy for you, but he is just the first person in a long line who will belittle you, mock you and dismiss your dream. Learn to ignore the rubbish he spews and it'll stand you in good stead in the future. I won't just be teaching you to swing a blade: there's more to swordsmanship than that. I won't teach you everything either: every _true_ sword user must walk their own path so once you're capable enough to make your own way in the world I'll cut you loose and look forward to the day you hunt me down to defeat me on your way to the top."

"Hai, shishou!"

* * *

Despite having spent more than half his life believing he was the younger twin, Blaze had always been the more responsible one. He had recently become the tallest one too, much to Ace's disgust, but the redhead was sure his twin would get over that soon enough. Probably sooner than he might have otherwise done now they had five baby siblings to help their mother care for. Taking care of Luffy and Orchis was something both Blaze and Ace had always done no matter how they felt about the younger sibling in question at the time and Sabo had recently been added to the family so they looked out for him too –more so than when he'd 'just' been their friend– but their family had doubled in size in the last week of December, four days before Ace's eleventh birthday, and the two months since the arrival of the quins had been very, very busy.

For one thing, Mum no longer had the time to do _anything_ except care for the babies, sleep, cook meals and teach, with the latter three being rather haphazard due to the overriding importance of the former. As a result Matsuri had taken over laundry duty and most of the food preparation, Blaze, Ace and Sabo found themselves heavily committed to doing chores and even Luffy and Orchis were helping out with absolutely everything, under supervision of course. They were all getting roped into baby care as well, which was pretty gross. Blaze had learned to change nappies aged five, when Orchis had been born, but had only had to do so a few times while babysitting. Now, with five babies who all seemed to poop within minutes of each-other, it was becoming a regular chore. Even _Luffy_ had to do it otherwise the baby in question would start to scream, which would set off the others and be a total nightmare until they were all clean and settled again.

Thankfully now the quins were nearly two months old they didn't need to feed quite as often and didn't mind being away from Mum for a few hours so long as they were kept warm and entertained. Mum had therefore developed a system where each of them had a baby they were responsible for so she could get an hour to herself here and there to do all the things that needed doing that nobody else could do, like make more baby clothes, write letters, supervise lessons properly and spar. The system was mostly fair, except that Luffy and Orchis had to be supervised so he, Ace, Sabo and Matsuri had to do that too. Matsuri generally didn't get an actual baby to care for, for some reason, which didn't seem fair except that Mum insisted so there had to be a good reason. Possibly it was because Matsuri was technically part of Dad's crew rather than being proper family.

Ace's regular charge was Mattias –Matty– who was the firstborn, probably the eldest and definitely the largest and heaviest baby. He had a rather long and mostly bald head with a ridiculous tuft of loose black curls sprouting a small area on the top of his crown, startlingly dark blue eyes and a smile that was a babyish but recognisable copy of Grandpa Ray's. Mum claimed that Matty had his father's hair –a dead giveaway that Dad wasn't the quin's father– and head, but Grandpa Ray's features. Blaze couldn't see it, not yet anyway: Matty's chin was rounded and his nose was tiny, nothing like Grandpa Ray's at all. Ace was in charge of Matty because he was the strongest of the older siblings, so had no trouble at all wrangling the large, heavy and long-limbed infant even when he was being especially wriggly. Not that Matty was a difficult baby: he was happy to be carried around tied to Ace' chest or back in a sling and only fussed when he was hungry or needed changing; when he was tired he just went to sleep. He did chirp, coo and babble almost constantly in the baby-bird-talk that all of them had learned as kids, though Sabo as a newcomer was struggling a bit with the tonal nuances and both Ace and Blaze were a bit rusty.

Janna was Matty's opposite: tiny where he was large, active where he was still and demanding where he was low maintenance. Janna wanted to be indulged, played with, talked to and generally entertained in every single moment she wasn't being fed or sleeping. As a result Luffy was in charge of her and he relished the challenge as only Luffy could, bouncing around the garden on rubber legs with the baby squealing happily from where she was firmly strapped to his chest or expounding at length on how he was going to be Pirate King. Janna had been born bald but now had a fine layer of pastel pink fuzz covering the top of her head, heavily lidded pale blue eyes under barely-discernible and strongly curved eyebrows, a teeny-tiny nose and more energy than seemed plausible for such a little girl. She didn't babble as much as Matty did, but she did expect to be babbled _at_ or else she cried. Luffy managed her admirably, though sometimes he got a bit carried away and had to be stopped from doing something stupid and dangerous, generally by Ace or Sabo.

Evelyn was possibly the most puzzling baby and Sabo's charge; the curly-headed blond had been utterly gobsmacked to find himself responsible for a baby sibling but was learning what to do at a respectable pace for someone who'd never even _held_ a baby before the quins were born. The main issue with Evelyn was not that the baby was fussy or demanding, because it wasn't, but that Evelyn was, well… Evelyn might possibly be a baby brother or a baby sister, or both. Because Evelyn had both boy parts and girl parts and Mum said Evelyn would have to decide for him or herself whether he or she was a boy or a girl. With long-lashed, sky-blue eyes, a floppy mop of white-gold hair and a head exactly the same shape as Matty's, Evelyn looked very girly at the moment but that might change in time. Sabo was playing it safe and only calling Evelyn by name or using a variety of pet names rather than committing to 'baby brother' or 'baby sister'. Other than that though Evelyn was a little angel, just as happy as Matty was to be carted around while Sabo did chores or trained, though unlike Matty Evelyn did not fill the silence with baby babble. Instead Evelyn liked to be talked to, sung to or even just hummed to. Sabo favoured humming, as his throat got sore quickly otherwise.

Blaze and Orchis shared the two youngest babies, who were _supposed_ to be identical twins but actually weren't quite since Lucan was a boy and Linnet was a girl. Other than that however the two _were_ completely identical, from their fluffy light blue hair through their wide, round golden eyes and pointy ears to their gummy, Mum-like smiles. Orchis had dubbed them 'the almost-identical twins' and the nickname had stuck. The duo were always happy so long as they were within earshot of one-another and didn't care what happened so long as they could chirrup and peep at each-other and get some kind of verbal response out of their older siblings every so often. Both the almost-identicals liked to have something to hold onto, which when with Blaze and Orchis was generally their older siblings' hair, but at least they didn't drool on it like Evelyn did on Sabo's shirt.

After the quins had been born Blaze' main worry was that Mum would get stressed, overwhelmed and jumpy, like she had when Orchis was born. Which she had done, right up until seven days ago when she'd slept in, wandered around the house in a giggly daze when she _did_ finally get up and had been bright, carefree and chirpy ever since in spite of the almost-identicals being colicky for more than half the week and barely sleeping at night. Ace had finally lost patience yesterday and asked Mum why she was so happy and she'd revealed that Zoro would be coming home soon. How she knew this Blaze had no idea, but Mum never lied so clearly Mum's missing husband was somehow no longer missing. Blaze however intended to corner the guy and ask how on earth he could go missing for the better part of twelve years without even writing! The world wasn't that large!

* * *

Three days later Blaze had to laugh at how naïve he'd been: the problem with Zoro wasn't the size of the planet or that he didn't consider visiting Mum to be important, but that his Da's sense of direction was so poor it was almost funny and the man seemed to teleport randomly when you weren't looking and get lost on half-a-dozen different islands scattered across the map. He always managed to get back to Mum within the hour, but grumbled about the various unwanted detours just loud enough for Blaze to pick up on and attempt to plot out. After the first eight incidents however the redhead gave up: they were completely random and of no real significance, other than the fact that the greenet man always seemed to end up near a bar on every third stop or so. Given that his Da drank at least ten percent of his body weight in sake and spirits a day, Blaze was not exactly surprised that the green-haired man gravitated towards bars. What boggled the mind was that he never even got tipsy, let alone drunk. After watching in awe as Zoro drank half the stock in Party's Bar singlehandedly the afternoon of the day after his first night in Fuusha and walked away still moderately sober, Sabo had ventured that maybe the scarred swordsman had alcohol in his veins rather than blood. It did seem disturbingly plausible. Blaze was sure that his father would be so, so jealous of Da's ability to do that even without taking into account the greenet's seeming immunity to hangovers. Having seen his otherwise loudly cheerful father quietly nursing a hangover several times during his year-long stay in East Blue, Blaze was fairly sure that immunity to hangovers was something to be envied.

Both twins liked their new Da despite initial distrust: Roronoa Zoro was on the short side of average but densely muscled, heavily scarred and had mint green hair tightly knotted in a bun on the top of his head, vaguely similar to the pictures of Wano samurai in Mum's books. He wore battered black leather trousers, equally battered and well-worn black boots that ended just below the knee, a green harimaki and a long green haori belted with a red sash. He had three gold pendant earrings in his left ear, his left eye was missing and he was blatantly, shamelessly, relentlessly obsessed with Mum. If they were in the same room he would be looking at her, if she was in arm's reach he was touching her and anytime he wasn't where she was it was a sure thing he had either just left or was looking for her. Makino thought it was 'cute', but she was the only one: most of the village was completely scandalised that Mum was 'having an affair' with a rough scoundrel who had drunk half the bar by himself. Well, they had been until this morning when Dad had shown up and kissed both Mum _and_ Da right in the middle of the village street, setting the gossips in a tizzy. That had been funny to watch.

Da wasn't anything like Dad: Dad was wild, vibrant and crazy yet somehow always knew when to be serious. Dad was also loud, energetic and a bit distractible, which made for really awesome outings when they were having father-son bonding time but could be very annoying when he was in a teasing mood. Dad could be excruciatingly embarrassing and _always_ did it completely deliberately, which set off Ace' temper like nothing else. Yes, both twins loved their Dad completely, but he could be _mean_.

Da on the other hand was practical, quiet and intense, coming across as someone who was always completely serious but Blaze knew there was an evil sense of humour hiding under that façade because if Da didn't enjoy teasing people he wouldn't have dragged Dad to his knees by the hair in the middle of the street then stuck his tongue down the taller man's throat. Da noticed everything, remembered everything and was completely calm all the way through, haki and all, even when Dad was being silly and Mum was being strange. He also had the most incredibly varied repertoire of smiles Blaze had ever seen: Da could look purely joyful, utterly terrifying, uncomfortably intense or quietly content, depending on the tiniest shifts in his facial expression. And that was all in less than three days!

Sabo was already looking at Da with the starry-eyed hero worship Luffy had turned on Blaze' father, suggesting the curly-headed blond had found a role model. Both twins were happy for their brother: Sabo did admire Dad but wasn't quite comfortable around him, so it was good that Mum's other husband was the kind of person Sabo could trust. That the first thing the slightly intimidating swordsman had said to them was that any child of their mother's was a child of his, blood be damned, had won him a lot of points despite starting in the negative due to his ridiculously long and still unexplained absence. Orchis and Luffy had adopted him then and there, Ace had been calling him 'Da' by lunchtime the next day and Blaze had found himself sharing his fruitless search for a decent sword only yesterday evening, despite it being rather private and not something he'd even mentioned to Mum yet. Da had listened, nodded, agreed at various points then examined Blaze's hands and stated that he would forge a sabre for the redhead, as Blaze deserved a weapon that suited him properly. Mum had just nodded and smiled as though having a blade custom made had been a given from the outset and Ace had instantly demanded a set of knives, which Da had waved off with 'of course; later' before turning to Sabo and asking what weapon he favoured. The blond had been embarrassed about his favoured length of lead piping but Da hadn't made fun, just looked thoughtful and mumbled something about the challenges of making a metal quarterstaff that wasn't too heavy or inflexible. So yes, Blaze could kinda see why Mum had married Da and why she'd missed him so badly. Mum and Dad and Da together were poetry in motion and their haki sang with a completeness and purpose that Blaze hadn't even realised was missing.

What with Dad running around the village more perky than he'd ever been, Mum giddy and giggling like a little girl and Da watching them both with a gleam in his eye and a twisted smirk on his lips, Blaze really doubted the villagers would run out of stuff to gossip about any time soon. That his parents didn't even seem to _notice_ they were the talk of the town was sort-of cute though. Hopefully nothing else would pop up before he and his younger siblings had got a feel for the new normal, which was not much like the old one and way better all around. Mum was finally sleeping properly! All the time, even! That if anything was something to be grateful for.

* * *

To build a forge, the first and most important thing to have was a chimney. Once you had a sturdy, fireproof chimney than the rest of the building could be as solid or as ramshackle as the builder could afford; it would affect the forging process but could be easily accounted for. However without a chimney you were sunk. Or on fire, if the chimney was in poor repair and no longer entirely fireproof.

Zoro would have liked to build his chimney out of stone, but Goa didn't have mines so he was going to have to settle for brick. This meant of course that before even starting his forge he'd have to build a brick kiln and make himself several batches of fire bricks, but his old smith-master had been a thorough old bastard and had ensured Zoro learned _everything_ about setting up a forge before ever starting him on hammering iron. As a result the greenet knew a hell of a lot about construction, chemistry and heat convection and could set up a smithy anywhere so long as he had access to the right materials. In this case, that meant mineral-rich fire clay, wood or coal for fuel and a suitably-shaped geological feature to set the brick kiln up against so the bricks inside heated evenly and the air was drawn upwards through it.

Fire clay was generally found underneath coal seams, which Goa did not have, so Zoro was going to have to import it. That would be not be too difficult as Zoro _did_ know where in East Blue there were coal seams, so he could take some of Kajin's crew over on a short trip and get to know them better while his husband caught up with Lisska and got started on the engine he was planning on building for the barge that would be transporting all the Adam Wood down to Fishman so Den could build a flagship for them. Zoro had already seen the ship's plans and was very impressed; he'd only had a few objections to make, which his husband had cheerfully accounted for. The finished design was _massive_ and was probably going to take _months_ to build, let alone finish. It was entirely possible that Spadille would get impatient and they'd end up finishing and furnishing the ship on the move; the plan after all was to start moving as soon as Sakazuki got promoted to Admiral, which could be anything between a week and a year away. None of them knew exactly when Sakazuki had been promoted after all, and there was no guarantee it would happen at the same time in this world.

Spadille's crew were already busy building the massive shell of the transport barge on the opposite side of Dawn island from Goa City, so Zoro would just have to borrow Robin –who was going by the Kajin-given nickname of Albatross– and possibly one other for his clay hunt. They wouldn't be going far –just to Mine Island, which butted right up to the Red Line and was rather mountainous– and he might even be able to buy actual bricks rather than having to fire them himself.

With this in mind, Zoro decided it was time to meet his husband's crew which he would be first mate on. As first mate it would be his job to manage the crew, so he was currently at a disadvantage and that just would not do. Poking at his husband's mind, the swordsman carefully made his way back to Vice-Admiral Garp's house on the outskirts of Fuusha Village, making an effort to concentrate on his actual surroundings so he didn't get… misplaced. It was bloody irritating, but at least Fox was there and her presence was like a homing beacon. He probably could have moved himself directly to her location, but the swordsman _liked_ walking and was determined to gain complete control over his location and newfound ability to teleport, even if it took him forever. He was the world's greatest swordsman, damnit! He refused to be defeated by something as mundane as geography!

* * *

Nico Robin, wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and ran her fingers through her damp curls, blinking away sweat from her eyes behind her sunglasses. Their captain had finally decided it was time to set out and be pirates properly, but he wanted a suitably impressive ship for them to sail with and so here they all were, building a barge in East Blue so he could transport the several tonnes of wood he wanted to use to make the ship to the shipwright of his choice. Who was on _Fishman Island_ of all places; Spadille certainly didn't do anything by halves and getting everything sorted out was going to be _awkward_ , even without the 'surprise training' he'd suddenly decided they all needed. How he was managing to hide himself from both sight and Observation haki Robin had no idea, but it was making it very difficult for them all to react in a timely manner.

Getting randomly ambushed by their captain had so far only given everybody a colourful and painful collection of bruises, but Albatross was sure she'd seen Tew try to duck _before_ Spadille appeared behind him last time and she was pretty sure her captain had seen it too, judging by his smug smirk. What that meant she still had no idea, but hopefully the massive man would see fit to explain things properly soon enough.

"Hellooo the barge!"

As one, the crew of the Morning Glory set aside hammers, set-squares, planes and wedges and turned to see what it was their captain wanted.

Spadille strode energetically across the grassy flats towards the sandbar just above the waterline where they were putting together the massive, flat-bottomed boat he'd designed, top hat at a jaunty angle and towing along a much shorter man wearing green. The man being towed seemed utterly resigned and was managing to keep his feet under him with admirable aplomb, leading Robin to suspect that this was somebody who'd known their captain for a while. A new crew member perhaps? The captain had mentioned he had a few more people in mind that he wanted to pick up before they left…

"Everyone, this is my husband Roronoa Zoro," the eight-foot bluet said brightly, finally letting go of the shorter man's wrist and wrapping his arm around the man's shoulders instead. "Zoro, this is our crew. Aren't they awesome?"

This was their first mate? Robin noticed that Gin and Skua were suddenly looking much more interested, while Tristan and Tew were pretending they didn't really care. Kobold, Sagi and Balis were all outright staring though and even Nathan stuck his head out from where he was assembling the gigantic engine to see who they were going to be dealing with.

Robin's first impression was that Roronoa Zoro was short. It wasn't really accurate –Spadille was stupidly tall and broad-shouldered to match– but this stranger wasn't even six foot. Compared to the rest of the crew that wasn't very impressive; she, Gin and Skua were all six foot, Tew and Badger were both a few inches more than that, Tristan was closer to seven foot and Sagi as a Longlegs was nine foot three. Then there was Balis, who was almost twenty-five feet tall. Zoro looked about the same height as Teresh, making him an inch shy of six foot even. The only people he was taller than were Kobold, who was fourteen, five foot ten and still growing, Mason who was five eight and Nathan, who was five nine.

Of course Matsuri had only been four foot ten, but she had been genuinely petite; their captain's husband was solidly built with muscles any dockworker would envy. Robin took in the mint-green hair tied up in a bun at the top of his head, the nasty-looking scar over where his left eye had been, the casually belted green haori over a bare, scarred and heavily muscled chest and the black leather trousers and boots, as well as the three swords stuck through his scarlet sash on his right hip. She also made a note of his large, scarred and calloused hands, the lazy amusement on his face and the three gold earrings swinging from his left ear; this was a dangerous man. He had presence. Not the wild, energetic and occasionally dizzying presence that their captain had, but a deep, weighty presence that made the Ohara escapee feel as though he was somehow more real than anyone else present.

Then Robin's brown eyes met a single clear grey eye and her breath caught in her throat; that keen, thoughtful gaze made her feel _naked_. Worse, she felt _transparent_ , as though her history and identity were laid out for their new first mate to read at his leisure. She wrenched her gaze away and found herself looking at her captain, who smiled reassuringly at her.

"So, how's it going?" Spadille asked brightly, letting go of his husband and bouncing slightly in place.

"Slowly," Teresh said drolly. "Couldn't you have picked up a shipwright or at least a carpenter? The only reason we're getting anywhere is the fact you left us your idiot-proof plans to work from."

The plans really _were_ idiot-proof: every last _nail_ was marked and accounted for, with measurements stating how far from the edge of the boards they should be situated and how precisely centred over the ribs of the keel they needed to be. Even Balis, who'd never picked up a hammer before in his life, was having no difficulty whatsoever in following the instructions, although mostly what he was doing involved holding the immensely long planks in position for the other crew-members to fix in place. It was very slow going though, as every measurement had to be double-checked.

"You forgot a carpenter, Kajin?" Zoro asked dryly, raising an amused eyebrow at Spadille, who pouted down at the greenet over folded arms.

"I didn't _forget_ one, Asura! I just… didn't find one I liked," their captain defended himself sulkily. "It's not like they grow on trees."

"You found a chef, a scholar, a doctor, a musician, a swordsman, a martial artist, two brawlers, an engineer, a navigator, a sniper and a pair of reliable deck hands… but no shipwright," the one-eyed swordsman pointed out with a teasing smirk. "What were you going to do if the ship got damaged, sink?"

"I hate you."

"Want me to find one, since it's proved beyond you?"

"Shut up."

Next to Robin, Skua shook with suppressed laughter. Robin's own mirth was firmly tucked away behind a bland smile; this was just so adorable to watch she didn't want to interrupt. Her captain could be childish at times, but she'd never actually seen him _embarrassed_ before; he really _was_ embarrassed and it was hilarious. Spadille had actually closed his eyes, turned away and stuck his nose in the air like a ten-year-old in a snit.

"I think I'll put off my shopping trip until I've got you a shipwright, Kajin," Zoro said, the smirk having widened into a massive grin. "Any preferences on who I ask or where I look?"

Spadille huffed and made a rude noise before unfolding his arms and adjusting his hat. "Well, _fine._ I want someone competent, who'll fit with the rest of the crew, recognises they've still got a lot to learn and a relaxed attitude towards the word 'impossible'. I'd also like a woman, because we need more of them in the crew."

Their new first mate nodded thoughtfully, as though his captain and husband hadn't just handed him the kind of mission that was likely to take upwards of four months and a fast ship to complete. "I'll see what I can find; in the meantime why don't you give them a hand since _you_ certainly know how to put a ship together."

"Slave driver," Spadille said, without any particular heat.

"I don't want my husband getting fat and lazy," the swordsman countered sweetly, poking the larger man in the ribs. "Go help your poor, under-appreciated minions while I find you a shipwright."

The large bluet stooped to kiss the other man squarely on the lips, then ambled over to where Teresh had secured the plans under six rocks to prevent them from blowing away.

"Okay, so what have you got done so far?"

Robin glanced back over to their new first mate was standing and blinked in shock; he wasn't there anymore. How peculiar. Where had he gone? She caught Skua's eye, but he seemed just as baffled as she was. Shaking her head, the nineteen-year-old put the matter out of her mind and instead slid off the side of the barge so she could hear the captain better. She'd find out what was going on with Roronoa Zoro eventually, since he was their first mate now. Considering he was married to Edward D. Spadille, he was bound to be an interesting person. He'd also be entertaining to watch if he could make their captain act like that.


	19. Shopping

Last completed chapter, so expect a long wait for the next update. I have lots on my plate right now and writing this far took about a year.

* * *

 **Shopping**

Over the course of the past two weeks Zoro had learned a lot about how to direct his newfound ability to get pretty much everywhere. Firstly and most importantly, Lisska was a fixed point and guiding light so he never had any trouble getting back to her. Secondly, while Spadille was no less easy to track down, it wasn't always safe to do so since Kajin could fly and he couldn't. He knew this because he had appeared in midair next to his husband then promptly become subject to gravity, which had resulted in Spadille making a quick dive so as to catch him before he hit the water. After that Zoro had decided that Spadille was an unreliable point to triangulate by, although moving in his husband's general direction was still possible and achievable so long as it was done cautiously. There was no telling _where_ he'd end up if he wasn't careful.

Thirdly, the best way to get to a specific place was to visualise it and walk forwards until he reached it, focusing constantly on his goal and not allowing himself to be distracted by the frequently peculiar places he walked _through_ on his way there. Although retrospectively, some of those intermediate places were rather odd. There'd been the deck of an abandoned ship and somebody's wine cellar on his most recent walk-about, for instance. Others had led to places such as other people's attics and the occasional hotel room.

However so far Zoro had not tried to find anything or anywhere he _hadn't_ been to before. It hadn't been necessary. Now though he had offered to find a shipwright or carpenter for his and Spadille's crew and he couldn't exactly go and poach one of the shipwrights or carpenters he remembered from their own world; all the really good ones he knew would be too young to recruit. Well, there was Franky and he would be in his early twenties and Iceburg who hadn't yet founded the Galley-La Company or become mayor on Water 7, but it was probnably better to leave them where they were for Luffy to meet. After all, Franky's dream was to sail in a ship he had build and Luffy would make that happen.

Still, that was no reason not to try; the best thing to do would be to look for shipwrights' workshops, as they had a certain commonality to them. Drying timber, the scent of freshly-cut wood and various oils, sawdust and tar, various blades and tools hanging on racks, the sound of wavelets against nearby docks and sawing and hammering… a shipwright's workshop was a constant, much like a bar or a smithy. It didn't matter where it was or who it belonged to, the same kinds of things happened in all of them, even the Marine-run ones.

It would probably take a few tries to find the right kind of person, but after getting a good look at his future crew Zoro was confident he could find a competent craftsperson who would fit in with the rest. They probably wouldn't be as ingenious as Franky had been, but Spadille was already enough of a prima donna that having more theatrical people in their core crew was probably a bad idea anyway. Level-headed, capable and reliable was what was called for, not eccentricity. Spadille-exposure would turn them all into eccentrics soon enough as it was.

With his goal in mind, however vaguely, Zoro set out.

* * *

Sulka sat cross-legged on the pale, fine sand just outside her workshop, staring off into space past the two empty quays and gently sanding a tackle block. Ships that made it up to the Sky Island of Birka were usually in need of considerable repairs both to the hull and the rigging, but hull work had to be done in situ so couldn't really be prepared for beyond making sure there were plenty of seasoned planks in storage. Blocks, belaying pins, deadeyes, parrel beads and travellers were however pretty standard no matter how large or small a ship was, so those where what she made in between customers. It was busy-work, but it still needed doing. She also fixed doors, mended window frames and made basic furniture when business was really slow, but that was because she needed to eat rather than having any particular fondness for carpentry as opposed to being a shipwright. Mending boats was what she loved doing, which was why she was out here, living in a shack on the shore where the Sea Cloud met the Island Cloud, offering repairs at prices that ever so slightly undercut those of the larger workshops to give her an edge. Working alone, she didn't have to pay apprentices so she could afford to offer lower prices. She also took longer to do the work than the workshops on the main docks did, but the more cash-strapped captains didn't mind waiting a bit longer and neither did the cheapskates.

Of course undercutting the larger workshops hadn't made her any friends, but Sulka had never exactly been overburdened with friends in the first place. Her father had been a sailor passing through and while her mother had managed to marry well eventually despite bearing a bastard child, Sulka just did not have the temperament to be a good little warrior's wife or a priestess. She was tall, she was strong, she loved working wood and she loved the sound of the sea. She desperately wanted to leave Birka and see the Blue Sea, where her father had come from, and all the places her customers talked about.

Sulka could have left with any of the ships that had come up in the past three years, but none of them had really felt right. Half of them had already had carpenters on board if not proper shipwrights, so she couldn't have stayed, and the rest had either had crew or captains with poor attitudes. Sulka might have been a woman, but that didn't mean she would work for free, or that she was prepared to be somebody's bit-on-the-side in exchange for passage. She was a proud shipwright and she refused to settle for sailing with a captain who couldn't recognise that.

Setting aside the completed tackle block, she picked up her Iron Cloud multi-tool, selected a new chunk of wood and began shaping the rough cuboid into a more useful form. She was very lucky to have found the Iron Cloud; having it meant she didn't need an entire shelf's worth of expensive specialised tools from the Blue Sea as it took on form according to her wishes. She couldn't use it as a plane but it made a perfect substitute for just about everything else, from saws to augers.

Sulka had just mocked out the rough shape and was about to start shaping the curves when she abruptly heard the unmistakeable sound of boots on sand. Not such a strange thing to hear; most of the island's warriors wore boots. The odd thing however was that the sound had not faded in, as should have happened as the walker approached, but began abruptly well within hearing range.

Looking up, Sulka blinked at the man standing less than ten feet away from her workshop. With that clothing and those scars he had to be from the Blue Sea, but how had he gotten up here without a ship? There'd been no new vessels in nearly a month!

"How did you get here?" She asked curiously.

"I walked."

Sulka considered this. On the one hand, it sounded ridiculous. On the other, she'd heard of Devil Fruit and met a few Fruit Users. It was entirely possible there was one that let you walk up from the Blue Sea. "Why did you walk up here then?"

The one-eyed man with three swords at his hip cocked his head on one side. "I'm looking for a shipwright to sail with our crew," he said easily. "Interested?"

Sulka lowered her multi-tool. "You're a captain?"

"First mate," the greenet corrected her. "My husband's the captain."

Well, that suggested she would at least be safe from her captain's amorous advances; this guy didn't look the type to be keen on sharing.

"Help me pack up and I'll come right now," Sulka said abruptly, getting to her feet. It wasn't like there was anyone here she would regret leaving behind and all her most precious possessions were in her workshop anyway. Most of the timber would have to stay behind, but Master Nagi would be delighted to add it to his stores as soon as he realised she was gone, so it wasn't like it would be wasted. She'd be taking all her dials though; the Blue Sea sailors had made it clear you couldn't get them down there and some of hers were pretty rare.

* * *

The tall, bronze-skinned sky-islander with her respectably-sized wings and short, goat-like horns was not the first shipwright Zoro had seen today and her small, ramshackle workshop was not the first he had visited. It wasn't the fifth, or even the fifteenth; since setting out Zoro had wandered through twenty-two different carpentry workshops and shipwrights' docks. However despite seeing all those people, this woman was only the fourth that he had bothered to talk to. None of the others he had seen had had made the grade, and the other three he'd paused to shoot the breeze with had turned out to have underlying issues making them unsuitable for what Spadille had in mind. One had possessed a grudge against pirates, another had thoughtlessly ingrained prejudice against non-humans and the third had simply been weak. Not physically weak –that could be compensated for– but mentally. Spadille would have shattered that one entirely by accident.

Zoro had got a good look at the woman currently sorting through her workshop and efficiently packing her tools away and was confident that unlike all those he had seen so far, she had the steel and the flexibility to do very well indeed in their crew. She was also on the brink of developing Observation haki, which would stand her in good stead once Spadille started training her. True, they'd be staying in Paradise for the first six months or so of their trip to the top, but that was mainly so as to get the crew properly trained and ready for their assault on the New World. Spadille was planning on taking out Big Mom after all, so the faster the campaign progressed past Fishman Island the better. There wouldn't be any time to stop and rest while they were at war, so everybody had to be in top shape before then.

The woman emerged, carrying a tool chest, a kitbag and with a pair of Jet Skis hanging around her neck. "Ready," she told him.

"Name?" Zoro asked, taking the tool chest and swinging the woman bodily over his shoulders along with her kitbag.

"Hey, what're you–!"

"We're walking back and I don't know if holding hands would be enough," Zoro said shortly, setting his mental sights on Fox and Dawn Island. "Your name?"

The woman huffed but settled as he set off along the beach. "It's Sulka; just Sulka. How d– the _Hell_ –"

Zoro ignored the expletives and spiking heartbeat of his passenger as he sped up to a gentle jog. He still had that fire clay to buy and he wanted to start work on his new sons' blades as soon as possible. Using haki to ensure he didn't trip on the rapidly changing surfaces underfoot, the swordsman concentrated on the scents, sights and sounds of the island his wife had chosen to set up on for the time being. He was getting closer to her –she shone like a beacon to his senses– but the path was a bit too roundabout for his tastes.

Then Lisska was abruptly scant miles away rather than hundreds of leagues and Zoro stopped, setting Sulka back on her feet. "Come on," he said impatiently as she swayed in place, "it's not far now." Spadille was less than a mile down the road they were on…

… but the opposite direction to the one he was facing. Grunting in irritation, Zoro turned around and stomped back. "The captain's a mile down here, by the shore with the rest of the crew," he told the sky-islander, who had found her feet and was looking rather less green. "Get moving."

Sulka turned and headed down the road, glancing at him sideways every now and then in confusion and curiosity. She didn't ask any questions though, for which Zoro was grateful. She also led the way, which made it much easier for him to stay on the road and not misplace his destination. Really, who knew it could be so ridiculously difficult to get from one place to the next? He'd thought he'd got over this issue after memorising all of his wife's maps!

* * *

Tew watched bemusedly as his new first mate argued loudly and ruthlessly with the owners of the modestly sized blast furnace and crucible steel workshop over half-a-dozen bars of metal. Albatross was standing just behind Roronoa-san with the faint, bland smile on her face that indicated she was listening intently but hadn't quite deciphered all the undercurrents yet, her hands clasped behind her and a flowery sunhat shading her eyes. All in all she looked fourteen rather than twenty despite being six foot even, which was a very effective disguise really and gave her a valid reason to grab hold of Roronoa-san's arm whenever he decided he was done with this particular workshop and move on.

They'd been on Mine Island for a day and half so far and Tew had seen more brick kilns than he cared to think about, been dragged down eight different mines by his new first mate and helped carry a variety of bricks, metal ingots, bags of sand –why sand of all things?! – and crates of clay back to the Morning Glory. Despite knowing absolutely nothing about swordsmithing, Tew could recognise that Roronoa-san clearly _did_ know what he was doing and that the people he was haggling with knew it too. It was in the way they perked up a few minutes into the bargaining process and occasionally went off to bring other metal ingots for examination by the one-eyed swordsman. It was also visible in the way the steel-smiths eyed Roronoa-san's blades, that covetous glint that said that, even sheathed, they could tell the quality of what he carried. Or at least deduce it based on his expertise.

Tew hadn't seen those blades unsheathed yet either, as there hadn't been the opportunity for a spar, but there would be soon and he was looking forward to it. The Captain had said that his husband was a swordsman, but seeing the man in person said so much more: Roronoa-san was the personification of everything a true swordsman should be. Not that Tew had known such a thing before meeting the greenet, but now… the way the man walked, how he stood still, his awareness and confidence, all of it was the epitome of what Tew aspired to.

Unfortunately, alongside that incredibly focused brilliance Roronoa-san had a number of rather glaring flaws, primary among which was his inability to tell left from right. It was actually rather jarring the way the greenet had pointed out _exactly_ where they were and where they were going on one of the Captain's maps, then been unable to translate that into an actual heading. Robin had ended up having to do that, despite Roronoa-san being able to name the _constellation_ that would be directly over the prow and how many degrees north of the sun they needed to be. It just did not make sense that the first mate could _know_ all that, then attempt to steer them _due north_. Tew had been reminded of the Captain's throwaway comment all those years ago – _Never, ever let him anywhere_ near _the rudder unsupervised_ – which suddenly made a startling amount of sense. Although part of the blond swordsman wondered whether their new first mate was messing with them; nobody could _seriously_ be that bad at orientating themselves, could they?

* * *

Robin watched attentively as her new first mate slammed the steel ingot in his hand down on the anvil beside the display table and listened attentively to the ringing sound it made. Zoro had done this with all the ingots that had been brought to him, discarding over half of them for no discernible reason and setting the ones he was apparently satisfied with in two distinct piles. Robin had a feeling that the one-eyed swordsman was using haki somehow to examine the internal structure of the ingots more closely, but had no idea how that might work. Maybe she should try investigating inanimate objects with haki herself, rather than just relying on her sense of people and wildlife? It certainly wouldn't hurt; Spadille would probably approve, as it would make her less vulnerable to natural hazards like landslides and quicksand and possibly help her predict the weather as well.

The ingot got placed on the left-hand pile, but the next one was tossed aside with a snort before the greenet turned on the man who had supplied the metal for him to test.

"Is this all you've got?"

"I have other customers you know," the soot-stained man in the leather apron growled at the first mate, "and none of them are as fussy as you are. There's nothing wrong with my steel!"

Zoro snorted. "It you're just making cheap blades or machine parts, maybe," he conceded condescendingly, "but for a blade with _real_ quality those–" he waved a hand at the two dozen ingots lying on the ground in a haphazard heap "–lack the proper microstructure. These here," he tapped the left-hand pile, "are half-decent, so I'll take them at a discount since there aren't enough of the good ones. Refining them further will be a chore." The greenet made a face.

"How dare you! This is Marine-quality steel!"

"Marine-quality is shit then; I bet the blades snap half the time and that's why you're still getting business!"

Robin leaned back slightly as the argument continued, only taking action once Zoro had beaten the man down into agreeing to accept half the asking price on the 'flawed' ingots, with a ten percent premium on the 'good' ingots to make up for it. Then she took out the money the captain had entrusted her with –apparently her Captain's husband was 'shit with money' although she wasn't sure how considering his impressive haggling skills– paid for the steel and watched in faint amusement as Zoro handed off half the ingots to Tew, grabbed the rest and set off back towards the ship.

Well, that was probably his intention, so Robin quickly caught his arm and steered him back _down_ the hill, rather than around it like he had been trying to go. "Are we taking these back to the ship before continuing our shopping?" she asked for politeness sake.

The first mate grunted agreement. "Specialist minerals next, Albatross," he said shortly, letting her steer him along the winding road without comment, "so we'll be getting them as oxides. Need to find a chemist or some such; probably on the dock front, since a lot of them are volatile and they generally get stored as powders."

"Very well, First Mate-san," Robin said lightly, quickly going over their previous wanderings in her mind to see if they had walked past somewhere like that at some point. There had been that warehouse on the South Dock that might be promising…

* * *

Blaze watched, fascinated, as his Da slowly and methodically heated and hammered a steel ingot into a straight blade. The redheaded preteen had been roped into helping to build the chimney adjacent to the house up in the woods that Ace had restored, as Da had decided it was a good place for a forge and there being a building there already saved him some work. Da had taught him about how to build with brick before moving on to how to burn charcoal and explaining why charcoal was better than coal for forging blades, then showing him how to shape the landscape to form wind tunnels as they were more effective than bellows for keeping a fire hot and steady.

Ace would probably have been interested in this stuff too, but currently Ace was getting extra training from Dad and helping him assemble the fiddly bits of the engine that was going to run off Dad's Devil Fruit in the barge he was building. Blaze's twin was a bit huffy about not being able to help build the engine in situ, but Dad, Mum and Da didn't want them meeting Dad's crew yet so Ace had to live with the disappointment. Their parents' reasoning was eminently sensible and all completely understandable, so Ace couldn't even sulk about them being unreasonable.

On the plus side, Ace spending most of his time back at the house and Spadille being there as well most days meant that Blaise didn't have to carry Matty with him while working with Da, as Dad was really enjoying bonding with the quins and was happy to carry two or more of them around at once. It was a bit odd seeing Dad coo over the babies rather than snuggling with Mum, but Blaise remembered when Orchis had been born and Dad had basically spent every moment he was with them carrying the purplette around and talking to her, so it was probably just how Dad was, despite the quins not being his by blood.

Not that Dad was neglecting the rest of them, but Blaze was spending most of his time with Da and Sabo was tagging along half the time because Sabo and Da had just _clicked_ so Ace, Luffy and Orchis were getting Dad to themselves a lot of the time. Although from what Blaze could tell, Luffy was actually spending most of his time with Mum rather than Dad so she could help him make more progress with his Fruit Ability.

As it was six weeks since Da had showed up on Dawn Island and Dad had started getting ready to leave for the Grand Line, Blaze knew that having all three parents around the house wasn't going to last much longer so he was enjoying it while it lasted. Dad's barge was nearly finished now and when he and Ace got the last bits of engine assembled to their satisfaction the big bluet would be leaving with half of the crew. Blaze knew this because Dad, Da and Mum had been talking about it over meals, just like he knew that Da would be staying mostly on Dawn Island until Dad's ship was ready, then taking the rest of the crew and their current boat out to meet it. Da had said something about 'making up for being away so long' and 'training the duckling', which had led to the one-eyed swordsman explaining to a curious Luffy that he had found a student and was tutoring her on the side in between working at the forge and pampering Mum. Blaze had memorised the name of the island and the town said student hailed from, just in case he could manage a visit at some point. Anybody Da thought was worth his time was bound to be cool.

Right now however Blaze was happy to sit and watch his Da forge the sabre that had been promised to the redhead shortly after their first meeting while Sabo hunted down dinner in the surrounding forest. He had nothing else to do and nowhere else to be.

* * *

Silvers Rayleigh raised an eyebrow at the solidly built blue-haired pirate with Whitebeard's nose and a grin that said he was having _way_ too much fun messing with people's heads to even _consider_ stopping any time soon. He didn't spare a glace for the other seven pirates standing around behind their captain and eyeing their surroundings; compared to the man who had introduced himself as 'Spadille, one of your sons-in-law' they didn't even register as threats.

So, you want me to coat your… barge," the former Roger Pirate said, setting aside his sake dish. He hadn't really expected this to happen, considering he was vacationing incognito on one of the small mangrove islands on the New World side of the Grand Line...

"I've got the cash to pay you for it and I'm familiar with the Silvers' policy on family discounts," Spadille said brightly.

Rayleigh couldn't help but smile; the Silvers' policy on family discounts was that they _didn't_ offer them. "Very well then; I have a contact who won't mind me borrowing their coating yard for a few days. Let's talk money, shall we?"

* * *

"Run that by me again," Den, merman and younger brother to Tom the shipwright who had built the Oro Jackson, demanded.

"I want you to build me a ship, to these general specifications," the crazy blue-haired Devil Fruit User repeated patiently, gesturing to the stack of plans unrolled across a helpfully placed chunk of masonry and held open with shells. "I have very particular requirements in certain areas, like the engines and the figurehead, but I'm prepared to help with those and the crew will do any heavy lifting. For the non-specific bits you're free to do whatever."

"Your 'particular requirements' include a layout of internal partitions and doors that is frankly headache-inducing." Den felt it needed saying, because just _looking_ at that particular plan gave him that impending-migraine feeling.

"I know!" The pirate who had introduced himself as 'Spadille' said brightly, looking far too pleased with himself. "It's a security feature!"

Den shook his head. "I can't _believe_ I'm considering this," he muttered to himself.

"Is that a yes?"

Den rubbed his face with a web-fingered hand. "It is a yes; I'll be taking you up on your offer to help though, as this lady is a _monster_ and I'm going to need all the assistance I can get to have it done within the next few months." He had a feeling this 'Phantom' was going to be every bit as infamous as the Oro Jackson, so since he _was_ going to build it he wanted it built _well_.

"Wahoo!" The crazy bluet bounced to his feet and hugged the merman shipwright, making Den gasp as his ribs creaked. This nutcase was _strong_ , even more so than a fishman! "You heard him guys; hop to it!"

* * *

Donquixote Rosinante huddled in the shelter of a large leaf as rain poured endlessly from the sky, the droplets so large and heavy the MIA Marine Commander had to wonder if a Giant was emptying a giant barrel of water over the island. He knew that wasn't _really_ what was going on, of course; he'd been stuck on this damn island for two years now and knew there was no way he was _ever_ going to get off it unless the bastard who had dumped him here came back. That was a certainty, because this charming little autumn island was in the _Calm Belt_ and far, far away from the Marines' various crossing points. Rosinante was stuck, he knew it and it was slowly driving him crazy.

Once more the tall blond cursed the lunatic Logia who had saved his life; what kind of _arsehole_ healed a man from a bullet wound then dumped him on a deserted island for _two years_?! Never mind what the blue-haired bastard had said to him right before leaving!

Shoving lank, shoulder-length hair out of his eyes, Rosinante grimaced as the words that had haunted him ever since he had been left to rot on this remote island echoed in his mind once more:

" _We can change what we do, but we cannot change what we_ _ **are**_ _. Family should look after one-another, not betray each-other; you forgave your father for the part he played in your mother's death and your own torture, why could you not forgive your brother for doing what he thought was necessary to protect you?"_

The former Marine ground his teeth, angrily wiping his face with one hand as around him the rain continued to pour down. He'd always considered his elder brother to be a monster, a heartless psycho. But hearing it worded that way had forced Rosinante to see things from Donflamingo's point of view and he hadn't enjoyed it at all. Because his bastard saviour was _right_ : his brother had loved him and he had betrayed that. His brother who barely recognised that the people around him were even on the same level of animals had seen him as a _person_ and _precious_ and he had spat on that regard, exploiting it for his own ends. Rosinante had no doubt that Donflamingo had been even more brutal and cruel since that betrayal and it made his heart hurt. That was his fault; he'd criticised his brother for bring an uncaring, violent bastard but really, Rosinante hadn't considered Donflamingo to be family since he murdered their father. He hadn't forgiven his brother and had demonised him rather than reaching out to him.

He felt such a fool for not seeing it sooner and for agreeing to go undercover in the first place; his brother had welcomed him back with open arms, accepted him without question and Rosinante had taken advantage in true pirate fashion. How could he, as a Marine, claim any kind of moral superiority if his actions were just as bad as the pirates he hunted?

Rosinante wondered sometimes if he hadn't been left here to slowly go mad from shame and guilt. He didn't want to die though, not when he still didn't know what had happened to young Law and to Dressrosa. Had his brother carried out his plan yet?

A gust of wind buffeted the leaf above his head, dumping a load of freezing water over him. Shivering, Rosinante wrung out his hair and huddled under the badly-cured animal pelt that served him as a cloak. Hopefully the rain would stop soon…


End file.
